Harry Potter and the Dursley Dream
by Mystiq
Summary: Just after his fourth year, Snape briefly befriends Harry, strange visions haunt him during the day, his skin begins to glitter... what is a wizard being chased by a Dark Lord to do?
1. Strange Discovery

. H . A . R . R . Y . . . P . O . T . T . E . R .  
. A N D . T H E . D U R S L E Y . D R E A M .  
  
SUMMARY:  
What would happen if the Dursleys got sucked into Harry's world? Would he find peace? A maddening collection of dreams Harry confuses for reality haunts him awake and asleep and the faint glitter on his skin bothers him even more. Follow Harry through the wretched dreams, feeling just as confused as he is.  
  
FOREWARD:  
This is my first story EVER that's longer than five pages. Parts of it can get confusing, but just bear with it, as it is all eventually explained (well most of it, mouahahaha). The sequel, Mark of Ancients, is better overall but this story is crucial to understanding it.  
  
SEQUEL:  
Harry Potter and the Mark of Ancients  
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=858638  
  
Update: November 12th, 2002:  
Having a strong urge to re-read this story, I took the time to actually proof read it as I had never actually done so. :) There were three huge mistakes (errors of my original interpretations of the first four books) that no one ever pointed out to me. They had no impact on the story itself and have been corrected. Silly dialog was removed, more stuff has been added, poor writing in certain areas has been improved, punctuation has been fixed, it's now properly formatted through and through, etc. The result is this story is now slightly longer, slightly better, with slightly better writing and is generally a better read. Feel free to read it again and point out what I did to it! :) It's possible that I may go back and do this again, improving it more. Time will tell.  
  
CHAPTER INDEX  
  
-1. Strange Discovery  
-2. Recovery And Recollection  
-3. Something To Ponder  
-4. A Memory To Live Forever  
-5. Book Of Memories  
-6. A Friendship Stronger Than Friendship  
-7. Love The Moment  
-8. Skin Of Gold  
-9. Road To Sanctity  
  
  
Chapter 1: STRANGE DISCOVERY  
  
Uncle Vernon was waiting beyond the barrier. Mrs. Weasley was close by him. She hugged Harry very tightly when she saw him and whispered in his ear, "I think Dumbledore will let you come to us later in the summer. Keep in touch, Harry."  
  
"See you Harry," said Ron, patting him on the back.  
  
"Bye, Harry!" said Hermione and she did something she had never done before; she kissed him on the cheek.  
  
"Harry - thanks," George muttered, while Fred nodded fervently at his side.  
  
Harry winked at them, turned to Uncle Vernon and followed him silently from the station. There was no point worrying yet, he told himself, as he got into the back of the Dursley car.  
  
As Hagrid had said, what would come, would come... and he would have to meet it when it did. The thought of yet another summer at the Dursley's in his current state was nothing he wanted, however. Making Malfoy go unconscious was a nice side benefit, but can't make up for the Dursleys...  
  
The moment Harry stepped into the car, he didn't say anything. This was no hard feat since Uncle Vernon didn't ask him anything nor, even, did it look like he wanted to talk. But this was usual, and didn't bother Harry. They never knew what went on at Hogwarts and never cared to ask. They've never known what Harry has seen the past four years but anything is better than a lifetime with Uncle Vernon and Dudley.  
  
Knowing Sirius is out there and caring for Harry like a father keeps his spirits up. Knowing Mrs. Weasley has suddenly begun to act like Harry's lost mother provides lost comfort. Knowing Voldemort is out there, Harry wonders why Dumbledore insists he stay at the Dursley's each summer. The answer isn't what he would like it to be: that Voldemort feared Uncle Vernon, Aunt Marge and the rest of his relatives more than Dumbledore. That would be convenient.  
  
When they got home, Harry went straight to his room saying nothing with a stern "don't touch me" look on his face. While it had happened a week ago, he was still feeling plainly rotten and no one at Privet Drive would make him feel any better.  
  
Among changes since his departure, Dudley had gotten two pet snakes in Harry's absence. They were fairly long, coming in at a few feet and sitting on a table in a glass cage as everyone walked in. A smile on his face, Harry knew he had to have some fun with it but all he wanted was to sleep and put current events into a Pensieve of his own. The first one Harry came across was Dumbledore's very own Pensieve, and he had been siphoning his own thoughts into it.  
  
There was lots to ponder about this time around. Hedwig let out small noises and was itching to fly around again. Harry sat up on his bed and stared out the window into the night sky. His friend Ron was in the same classes as him. Ron came from the Weasley family, an unfortunately poor and slightly overpopulated Wizard family with a bad reputation. His Hermione Granger came from a pure Muggle family (Muggles are non-magic folk). She got a letter to her great surprise and instantly became a star student.  
  
As much as Harry tried, Severus Snape wasn't leaving Harry's mind all too soon. It was the teacher you wish you never knew. Snape was always partial towards his own Slytherin House students. Before you could say "unfair," Snape had taken points away from Harry's house, Gryffindor, for the smallest little thing. "You didn't help Neville, Potter, and look at the mess on the floor. One point." Despite Snape's best efforts though, Gryffindor managed to win the House Cup every year since Harry had been at Hogwarts.  
  
Then there was his wrongly accused ex-convict of a godfather (the ex fact he had repeatedly failed to mention to the Dursleys). Sirius Black had been held at Azkaban after being framed for the death of Peter Pettigrew. Peter, Sirius, James Potter and Remus Lupin had been long time friends. Snape had always followed them around, trying to find something to get them in trouble. It wasn't until a practical joke where James stopped Snape from actually going near the Whomping Willow and getting himself eaten up by Remus Lupin as a werewolf (Lupin transformed in a shack whose underground path was hidden by the tree) that Snape had realized his hatred for James would last forever. How could he forgive his biggest enemy for saving his life?  
  
Lupin had been bitten by a werewolf in his childhood. Every full moon he would transform into a werewolf and he hid this fact very well during his years at Hogwarts. More recently, Snape had been providing him with potions to ease his werewolf mind (so as to not go on hunts). After they found out, Pettigrew and James had trained to be come Animagus' so they too could shapeshift into an animal. You were supposed to register as an animagus, however, and the two failed to do so. Peter had secretly been in league with Voldemort and after his downfall, went into hiding as Ron's pet rat (he was later found out, but he escaped certain doom).  
  
Lupin was a teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts for one year at Hogwarts, one of Harry's favorites, but left after an outrage by students and parents finding out about his werewolf status. It was freak accident involving Pettigrew, Sirius and Harry. Dumbledore was Harry's personal savior. He is the headmaster at Hogwarts, the best one in a thousand years of Hogwarts history. At the end of every school year, Dumbledore's job was to debrief Harry and most notably, to calm him down as Harry was usually more frightened by events every successive year. Dumbledore had taken a liking to Harry. Too bad Professor McGonagall, leader of Gryffindor, did not. Unlike Snape, she was impartial to all students. She did give Harry a Nimbus Two Thousand broom (students were oogling over it in a window during Harry's first trip to buy school supplies) in his first year at Hogwarts. Unbelievably, Harry had become the youngest Seeker in a century to play on a Quidditch team. McGonagall gave Harry the broom to ensure success (and succeed he did).  
  
No one could forget the Dursleys. Harry was left as a baby on their doorstep the night of his parents' murder. No one in the family cared much, though. Uncle Vernon was just as mean as, if not meaner than, Snape. Aunt Petunia's sister was Lily Potter. Her parents were so proud to have a witch in the family that Petunia took a back seat. Very agnostic towards witches and wizards from this point on, she took an immediate dislike towards Harry's coming future. Uncle Vernon simply wanted nothing to do with it. Harry became Dudley's punching bag. They were the same age, but Dudley had put on much more weight. Harry's diet suffered because the Dursleys were always complaining about how much it cost to keep him around. Harry was forced to live in a small cupboard under the stairs with nothing more than a window, a bed and enough room to put Dudley's old and oversized clothes for Harry to wear. They hid from Harry very well the fact that he was a wizard and told him his scar was from a car crash that claimed his parents' lives. Repeatedly, they told him "there's no such thing as magic!" It was hard to hide though.  
  
One day at a zoo, Dudley had pushed Harry a little too far. The next minute Dudley was staring a Boa Constrictor in the eye after the glass guard had disappeared. Not much changed after Harry's first year at Hogwarts. Dudley was scared to be around Harry but his aunt and uncle still gave Harry cold eyes. They never got used to the fact that Hedwig, Harry's owl, was his personal mail delivery to other wizards. Hedwig was always proud of herself after a successful delivery and she never failed, not once. And who could forget the time the Weasleys used floo powder to pick Harry up from the Dursleys and take him to their house? Floo powder allows one to travel through a network of fireplaces. That morning was classic. Harry would never forget it.  
  
As Harry got into bed, Hedwing was fluttering around in her cage stretching her wings looking as if she had been trapped. Eager to keep her happy, Harry sat motionless for a minute and thought of something to write to Sirius about. He was sure he could find out why he had to spend terrible summer after terrible summer with the Dursley's. He opened Hedwig's cage, grabbed his quill, took out Muggle paper he had stolen from Dudley and started writing.  
  
I just got back to the Dursley's. Dudley had bought pet snakes. How he convinced his parents I don't think I'll ever know but I need to have some fun with that. I'm still not used to the fact that I can speak Parseltongue.  
  
Voldemort had leaked some of his own ability to Harry the night of the murder. Descendants of Salazar Slytherin had the ability to speak to snakes. They called themselves Parselmouths. Naturally, Voldemort was one of them. Harry absorbed this ability during Voldemort's attempt to kill him.  
  
Anyway, I wanted to ask you. Dumbledore insisted I stay with the Dursleys instead of the Weasleys. My only reason is that maybe Voldemort is more scared of my relatives than Dumbled-  
  
Just then, a faint scream pierced Harry's ears.  
  
He grabbed his wand, stuffed it into his pocket and opened the door. Hedwig wouldn't stay still so she had to come too. Whatever someone wanted to say, they were free. Harry was ready to give anyone that bothered him a free leg-locker. He opened the door to his cupboard, turned the hall way light on and heard it again. It was coming from... Uncle Vernon's room? Everyone was almost always asleep by 2 A.M. Occasionally Dudley could be heard sneaking into the kitchen -- so much for his diet. Up the stairs and right in front of Uncle Vernon's bedroom -- the door was not open more than usual.  
  
"Harry!" Aunt Petunia cried.  
  
Harry whipped the door open and -- he didn't want to know how it happened -- Dudley's snakes were sitting right on top of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Dudley sat horrified in the corner of the room. A bottle of snake feed was sitting on the counter behind him and a piece of doughnut was in his hand. Glass from the cage was shattered all over the floor by the door looking as if it had been accidently dropped. The snakes hissed loudly next to his aunt and uncle's heads. Everyone except Harry was staring with mouths open at the snakes with nothing coming out. One snake took an advance toward Uncle Vernon's neck. Harry panicked.  
  
"STOP!"  
  
Of course it wasn't in any language anyone else in the room understood. Everyone turned their eyes off the snakes and towards Harry. Both snakes lowered their heads and whipped around to look at their new company. One of them gave off a light hiss.  
  
"Come here," hissed Harry.  
  
The snakes obeyed and walked up to his feet. Now perfectly calm (especially at the sight of Uncle Vernon's face), he picked up the biggest piece of the cage he could find (with the snakes following him), pointed his wand at it and said, "Reparo."  
  
The shards of glass on the floor whipped through the air back into their places. Not realizing where they would fly, one cut Harry handily on the wrist causing him to drop it and break it again. A shard of glass impaled one of the snakes. He looked at the Dursleys who were still gaping at Harry in utter disbelief. Muttering something under his breath, the cut healed itself instantly. He repaired the cage once more but from on the floor this time. Some more muttering and the two snakes were flying in the air and dropped cleanly into the cage.  
  
"Wha..." was all that came out of Uncle Vernon's mouth.  
  
Aunt Petunia took her turn. "The snake... at... the zoo?"  
  
Harry didn't bother replying. He couldn't help smiling so brightly. Accidental or not, he had just saved them from a grisly end given he knew the snakes were deadly from his Care of Magical Creatures class.  
  
"Accio cage top," Harry said, pointing his wand at the door of the bedroom.  
  
Coming through the open door was the top of the snake cage. Harry saw Dudley go limp as if just about to faint.  
  
"Ennervate," and just before Dudley fell, he caught himself.  
  
Aunt Petunia began yelling and the smiles were gone from Harry's face in an instant.  
  
"You aren't supposed to be using magic outside Hogwarts!" she yelled.  
  
Did she think he caused Dudley to pass out? And it was then that Harry had the sudden realization about the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry. Perhaps if he... just kept quiet... no one would bother him? And besides, he had saved their lifes, not tried to kill them!  
  
"He killed one!" screeched Dudley.  
  
Did he really have to mention those snakes were deadly?  
  
And before judgement reached Harry's head, "FINE, GET KILLED!" Harry turned around and started towards the door. "Accio snake." The live snake came flying into Harry's hand. Another flick of the wand and it was on top of Dudley. Yet another flick and Dudley was screaming. Harry was at the door with his back turned to the three of them.  
  
"Just scare him," Harry snickered. The snake wrapped itself around Dudley's legs. He ran down the hallway and onto the stairs above his room and sat. The screaming of Dudley assured him they hadn't yet gotten the snake off Dudley's legs. "By the way," he yelled up the stairs, "those snakes are deadly."  
  
In an effort to help them, they just yelled at him. He could hear them all yelling "wingardium leviosa," but he knew it wasn't doing anything. Finally he heard the cage break again and what sounded like Dudley killing the living snake.  
  
"Wingardium leviosa," he said to himself, waving his hand lazily.  
  
The glass cage banged against the wall outside of their bedroom and shattered into what sounded like a hundred pieces.  
  
Harry stormed back to their room and when he entered, they were tending to Dudley's snake bite. They all yelled at Harry but he didn't hear anything. The sound of his own thoughts blocked anything useless they had to say. Fuming, Harry had a sudden strange experience. He looked down at his hand and quickly hid it because it looked as if it were glittering.  
  
No, can't be. That's ridiculous!  
  
One instant he was standing in a doorway and the next he was standing in his bedroom, Hedwig, wand and all. He stood frozen for a minute. The snake bit Dudley but he still didn't care. Had he just Disapparated? He thought to himself how dangerous Apparating can be and especially didn't want to get splinched as he didn't think Disapparating improperly and leaving behind body parts wasn't going to just tickle. And doing it with Hedwig on his shoulder taking her along... Never in history has someone been able to Apparate and Disapparate taking someone with them.  
  
Strangely eager to try again, one instant he was standing in his bedroom, and the next, inches from Ron. The glitter had stopped. Hedwig had been thoroughly frightened. She fell onto the floor with a thud flapping her wings and causing quite a commotion. Ron blinked his eyes and looked up at Harry.  
  
"H-," a pause in his thoughts. "Harry?"  
  
"I, well, umm."  
  
Ron checked his window. It was still closed. He looked at the door. The trap Fred set up was still secure.  
  
"How you... Me dreaming, am I?" Ron's brain hadn't turned on yet. Harry felt quite queazy and took a seat on the floor. "What are you -- how'd you get here!"  
  
Harry stared at him and blinked. He really didn't know how it happened, either.  
  
"I -- I heard Uncle Vernon screaming so I went into his bedroom. Dudley had bought pet snakes while I was away and the cage had broken while they slept. I recognized them from a Care of Magical Creatures class and remembered they were deadly. They were threatening Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. I told the snakes to stop, repaired the cage, put them back..." Harry calmed himself down a little bit. "Aunt Petunia yelled at me and Dudley was angry I accidently killed one repairing the cage..."  
  
Ron sat up, silent.  
  
"I set the other snake to tie up Dudley's feet," Harry went on, "and it bit him... I walked out for a minute then back in. They were all just screaming at me." His calmness didn't last long. Harry took a big swallow, then a deep breath. A few seconds of silence. "Disappeared. I... I Dispparated." There was a tone of fear in his voice.  
  
He didn't want to tell Ron that his skin was glowing. That would only cause more alarm. Then, Ron looked at Hedwig.  
  
"WHAT?!" he shouted and looked as he did when he first saw Hagrid's pet, Fluffy (a rather large three-headed dog). "You can't Disapparate! That takes loads of practice!"  
  
"I don't know. One minute... I-I was standing in their door. The next... I was in... my room." Hedwig had calmed herself by now, but not before waking up Fred and George. They heard Harry say "Disapparated" and jumped.  
  
"Hewicamwitchoo?" Ron stumbled over his words. "Lots of people can do that but no one can do it and take someone with them..." Ron gave him a blank stare.  
  
"Don't say the A word, please." Fred needed to put his two cents in.  
  
"You're just jealous because last time you tried it you ended up with eyes on your butt." George felt happy at his comment. "And it took Dad several tries to put your --"  
  
"Can you do it again?" interrupted Ron and then looking up at Harry.  
  
An unexplained sadness came washing over Harry. A tear ran down his face. What does it matter about magic he could or couldn't do? Pride entered him for once while being around the Dursleys and they just snapped at him. He never really knew why Aunt Petunia ever insisted Harry would act so weird. In his opinion, they are the weirdos. What's a disappearing glass guard or two? Did Uncle Vernon really think he could escape that rain of letters?  
  
Harry spotted a bug on the floor. He pointed his wand and it and instantly, it was dancing.  
  
The next minute he was back at his room floating with his back touching the ceiling. But he couldn't move. He felt more like passing out and staying that way for a long time. Aunt Petunia was standing in his door as he reappeared. "Win... wingar... di... um..." ...the last memory of that night was Aunt Petunia running to push the bed under him before he hit the floor.  
  
A searing pain from his head forced Harry's eyes wide open, but it wasn't his scar. He was laying on his side in a hospital not facing whoever was in the room. A hand grabbed his shoulder and he jumped not daring to turn over.  
  
"Harry." He didn't recognize the voice and tone, still not moving. "Harry." Something clicked. "I know you're awake." It was Aunt Petunia. Harry never heard her talk to him when she wasn't yelling at him.  
  
"Go away."  
  
"A week, Harry," she said simply. She went to the other side of the bed and gave him his glasses. Harry put them on, grunting. "You've been out for a week." A week? "We had to lie to the doctor and say you took a nasty fall down a big flight of stairs. He didn't believe us but what else could we say, you were floating midair then fell? That owl of yours flew out the window as soon as you came back. All I did was put you back into your bed and hope. Next morning someone woke me up in the middle of the night. That damn owl had brought someone back with it."  
  
Harry turned over. Someone was sitting in a chair behind Aunt Petunia that he didn't see clearly. He looked at his aunt and she looked rather frightened. He heard Uncle Vernon talking.  
  
"I nearly" -- Harry blocked his ears -- "my pants. A black dog was --"  
  
"Sirius?" Harry said in a whisper so weak that no one heard it.  
  
"-- on our bed," Uncle Vernon finished.  
  
Harry blinked, opened his eyes as wide as possible and turned over to look. The figure standing on the far chair got up and walked closer.  
  
"Sirius?" he said again but still no one could have hoped to have heard him.  
  
He tried to sit up, but Sirius pushed him back down. Aunt Petunia walked back to her chair and sat.  
  
"It's okay. I told them the story about what happened at Azkaban, about Pettigrew, about Lupin... we had a week, afterall. I asked them what happened. Said you disappeared right in front of their eyes then a few minutes later reappeared with your back to the ceiling in your room?"  
  
Uncle Vernon looked rather uninterested at the conversation and peered around the room aimlessly.  
  
"I --" Harry felt his throat tighten, "Disapparated three times taking Hedwig with me. After the second, I felt kinda... queazy. Had no way of getting home. Don't remember what happened..."  
  
Harry was still very out of it.  
  
His Aunt and Uncle looked at Sirius and said in harmony, "What?"  
  
Harry stared up at the ceiling with no emotion in his face.  
  
"Apparition and Disapparation. Commonly known by Muggles as..." Sirius looked inciteful and turned to Harry. "Teleportation? Lots of wizard can do it, but I don't ever remember hearing or seeing someone do it and take something with them other than their clothes. That's quite a feat." He turned to Uncle Vernon and went back to a gloomy stare. "You two have absolutely no idea what this boy goes through at school, do you?" Sirius took a step forward. Harry heard his uncle stumble in his chair and Harry let out a low but audible giggle.  
  
"A laugh," said Sirius. "How many of those does this boy have around you two?" He took a step closer to Uncle Vernon. "Maybe you should get yourselves in on what he does or he may just end up like Voldemort."  
  
Sirius transformed into a great black dog. He put Harry's wand under his covers, planted himself up on the bed and rested his head on his paws next to Harry's head. His tail was wagging. Whatever heart (or pity) Uncle Vernon had before was gone now. He stood up and ran to Harry. His mouth opened but before he could say anything they all watched as Harry gripped his head. This time it was the scar.  
  
Passing out or dying, it didn't matter. Writhing madly in the bed, Harry felt as if someone had poured hot lava on his forehead but his squirms didn't last long. Sirius transformed into his godfather and gave a quick punch to Harry's head. Uncle Vernon looked furius and Aunt Petunia gasped. It didn't knock him out, though Harry could simply no longer move, lost all feeling and felt a strange feeling of being unconscious yet conscious at the same time.  
  
"Trust me," said Sirius, "he'd rather get knocked out cold then have to deal with that scar. At least he doesn't feel it now. Would you like me to show you how it feels? What you just saw? That's nothing."  
  
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia didn't change their look but planted themselves firmly in their seats. Sirius' voice became soft and cold.  
  
"There's a curse that causes intense pain. What you just saw doesn't compare. It's like ripping your bones through your skin, preventing you from dying so you feel all of it and turning up the sensitivity on your nerves to max. Your body feels on fire in thousand degree heat but your skin doesn't melt. You want nothing more than to die. Sometimes you can't even scream, but if you do, it can be heard across the world."  
  
Sirius' voice became very threatening. "And the best part of it all..." He walked very close to them and said in a slow whisper, "Harry has felt this curse twice." He paused for a bit and began talking normally. "Would you like me to show you how it feels?" Harry heard the two of them take a deep swallow. Sirius turned his attention to Harry who's eyes were wide open again and moving violently. He could feel again and felt the scar upon his forehead searing with white-hot pain. Sirius took another attempt at making him go unconscious. He succeeded, but not before someone new began yelling.  
  
It would be another week before Harry would see the light of day again.  
  
He awoke once more. A graveyard? The Death Eaters. Pettigrew. A cauldron? And Voldemort? Harry was standing in the middle the ring of Death Eaters. What is this? It was all very real. Had someone used a Time-Turner? Something gripped Harry's stomach like a thousand pound weight. No, he couldn't bear to relive this moment one more time. Definitely not as a dream and certainly not as reality.  
  
"I said bow," Voldemort said, raising his wand -- and Harry felt his spine curve as though a huge, invisible hand were bending him ruthlessly forward, and the Death Eaters laughed harder than ever.  
  
"Very good," said Voldemort softly, and as he raised his wand the pressure bearing down upon Harry lifted too. "And now you face me, like a man... straight-backed and proud, the way your father died... And now - we duel."  
  
Harry began thinking to himself in a fury of thoughts. "No, not again," he muttered under his breath. "I-I-I can't do it."  
  
Voldemort raised his wand, and before Harry could do anything to defend himself, before he could even move, he had been hit again by the Cruciatus Curse. The pain... was not there? Nothing. Not a twitch, not a thing.  
  
Voldemort took a step backwards. "CRUCIO!" Voldemort's cry deafened everyone around them.  
  
Harry stood straight at him and grinned. Voldemort froze in place and Harry walked threateningly up to him.  
  
"Avada kedav-" he began to say but fell to the ground staring up at the sky, unable to move until a minute later, Voldemort laughing all the while, when --  
  
"HARRY WAKE UP!" It was just a dream afterall.  
  
He sprung out of his sleep, grabbed his glasses next to him and stood bolt up-right. He was lying on the floor. Dumbledore was charging at him as if to knock him down but stopped right in front.  
  
"Look around Harry, look what happened," he said frantically.  
  
There was a fear in his voice never before heard. Harry thought that if Dumbledore's hair wasn't already white, it would be now. What could he be so scared of? The answer to that was as simple as looking around. Harry stood in the middle the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were sprawled all over the floor cut up as if someone had stabbed them several times. Dudley was laying next to Harry's feet, cut up very badly too.  
  
Dumbledore caught his breath and became somewhat less frightened. "Voldemort had Apparated. We disable the protective magic during the summer. All of a sudden, Professor McGonagall runs to find me and says you had Apparated into the Great Hall with your relatives. Voldemort appeared at the same time and --"  
  
"WHAT?!" Harry's breathing became so heavy it was almost as loud as his words.  
  
The dream... what was that about?  
  
"Do --"  
  
"I," Harry interrupted with a single word.  
  
Dumbledore gave Harry the blue stare he does when he has something to reveal. Harry had to collect his thoughts. Telling Dumbledore about the dream or not, well, that is not an option. Telling him about the glittering skin, he didn't know what to make of it. He opened his mouth but nothing came out for a few seconds.  
  
"I had another dream. A flashback," said Harry. He stared at Dumbledore as if he wasn't there. "Back to the graveyard with Voldemort and the Death Eaters." Harry's knees gave way at the very thought and let himself fall backwards. Dumbledore rushed up to him, summoned a pillow and put it under Harry's head. He kneeled over.  
  
"Continue my dear boy, try to continue."  
  
"He tried the Cruciatus Curse but I didn't feel anything. Twice. He - he did it again after the first time. Still... nothing."  
  
Harry was still clearly shocked about the thought of being hit by that curse again even if it had no affect on him during a dream. More shocking though, was what came next.  
  
Voldemort appeared right between the two of them. Dumbledore and Harry looked at each other. Harry stepped back slowly and Voldemort advanced on him, not caring that Dumbledore was there. Harry's mouth was moving but his voice had exited him. Fear filled him as it always had with Voldemort around. Dumbledore started a curse but Harry would have none of this. His voice came back to him and with all his might he shouted.  
  
"NO!" he yelled and everyone within miles could hear.  
  
Dumbledore and Voldemort clasped their ears in a feeble effort to block out the death cry. Still screaming, Harry's arms flung forward as if to cover the picture of Voldemort really being there. Harry saw a sparkle of gold flash quickly in front of him but was gone before he could catch a good glimpse. The next instant, Voldemort was flying high-speed into a wall of the Great Hall smashing into and breaking it. The force so great, chances are he appeared the other side of the building mere seconds later.  
  
Still screaming, Dumbledore, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley and Harry suddenly appeared in the living room of the Dursley house. Harry's screaming stopped the second they arrived. Dumbledore stood shocked that he Apparated with Harry and the others. Harry's entire body became weak and his breathing grew even heavier. First his knees gave way, then he fell face down. He was still conscious, but barely, still breathing heavily, but didn't care to be doing so. His eyes were wide open and he was too scared to move. 


	2. Recovery and Recollection

Chapter 2: RECOVERY AND RECOLLECTION  
  
If his breathing didn't slow down there would be no air left for anyone else. Dumbledore walked over to Harry, flipped him over and put a strange diamond in the middle of his chest. It was no bigger than one inch. It was glowing a very light white and left off what could only be described as an angel's voice letting out one heavenly tone.  
  
Harry's breathing slowed down considerably, his heart rate slowed to normal and feeling came back into his body. The fear remained but his eyes were still twitching slightly.  
  
"A Rest-Easy charm," said Dumbledore smiling.  
  
Harry's eyes stopped twitching. Dumbledore tried to move him but he wasn't responding. Dumbledore took a few steps over to Aunt Petunia. There were large gashes on her body (and the other two as well) but the bleeding had stopped. He mumbled something under his breath and the cuts vanished. He repeated this with Uncle Vernon and Dudley. In a few moments time, their breathing had become heavy and they were standing up simultaneously.  
  
"Your boy just saved you from something rather terrible," Harry heard Dumbledore telling them.  
  
"He also got our son bit by a snake," snarled Uncle Vernon. "You know how much we had to pay? It's coming out of that boy's dinner," snapped Uncle Vernon. He was clearly unphased by facing Voldemort.  
  
"You do not remember it, do you?"  
  
"Remember what? I don't need to hear from you. Freaks! The whole lot of you!"  
  
Dumbledore thought to himself for a few seconds while Uncle Vernon tried to speak.  
  
"A memory charm. Good thing I --" Dumbledore began to say, but just then, the wooden planks blocking the fireplace bursted open. Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley and Ron were staring at Harry, looking as if they had just seen a dementor. Uncle Vernon whipped his head towards them, fury in his eyes. Before he could say anything, Ron was the first to let the news out.  
  
"Snape sent us an owl --".  
  
"What --", Mrs. Weasley said, desperately trying to get a word out.  
  
"-- happened?" And so did Mr. Weasley.  
  
Someone needed to break the confusion and lower the tension.  
  
"I think Harry should rest in a slightly bigger room tonight," Dumbledore suggested calmly.  
  
"He will not," Uncle Vernon snapped again. Dumbledore floated Harry up to Dudley's room. Uncle Vernon naturally disagreed with this but all attempts at speaking were stopped by a sudden muting of his mouth. Everyone tracked Dumbledore's steps up to Dudley's room (including Dudley).  
  
Dumbledore thought for a moment, then said, "He will rest here for the night. I will explain to the Weasley's what happened and the Dursleys will not attempt to move Harry from this room."  
  
He ushered them all out of the room, muttered something and tapped his wand to the door knob. Uncle Vernon put his hand to the knob and tried to open it. A light but forceful shock filled his hand. Dumbledore gave him a light stare and walked back down to the kitchen.  
  
Harry could hear their footsteps fall off in the distance. He laid there motionless but breathing normally (the first time in a long time). Fear was dying down and his spirits began to rise. Dumbledore had bullied the Dursleys into giving Harry Dudley's room.  
  
A shed of tears then tore through his ears from downstairs. Was Aunt Petunia crying? The thought was ripped from his head when he suddenly blacked out for a brief moment. He could feel the strange glitter on his hands again. Harry heard the crying again and a lot of murmuring. A bright flash of green light streaked across Harry's eyes... but he was wide awake.  
  
The crying continued to grow louder and, unexplainably, his eyes force themselves closed. All he could see was black. Suddenly a flash of the kitchen appeared before the blackness in his eyes but quickly turned to black again. He noted Dumbledore leaning over on a chair. Who was he talking to? Loud screams filled his ears but were gone as quick as they had come. Harry's eyes shot open but he wasn't scared, he was simply too tired to care.  
  
The green light flashed before his open eyes once more but were forced closed again. There was yet another very quick view of the kitchen. Dumbledore was standing up and appeared to be screaming very scared. Dumbledore screaming? Harry's eyes were forced open for a third time. The green light flashed and his eyes were forced shut. Louder screaming filled his ears once more and a bloody shot of Dudley appeared in the kitchen. His arms were cut off and he was on the floor. Harry's eyes blinked uncontrollably and saw the green light flash three more times. Deafeningly loud screams filled Harry's ears. Before he went out, he got one last quick glance of the kitchen and this time, everyone was on the floor, dead and bloodied. Body parts were strewn all over. Dumbledore's great beard and hair were still attached to his chin and head. Harry was fast asleep.  
  
His eyes were weak. He had a good night's sleep, very good in fact. Probably too good because it took a few minutes before his eyes would stay open. Sitting next to him was, unfortunately, Snape.  
  
"Had a good night's sleep?" asked Snape.  
  
"What are you doing here?" said Harry.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore --" and Harry instantly froze. "Er, I put a memory charm on you. The Rest-Easy charm relays thoughts for the next few minutes and I saw the visions you were having. Part of the effect of it is that it removes some parts of recent memories from thought into it's designated Pensive. Of course, you won't know what I'm talking about." Snape stood up. "At least, that is, until I use the counter charm. It's every bit as powerful without the counter-charm, worry not." He was right, Harry didn't have a clue. "Get yourself together, get out of bed, remove those horrid Muggle clothes and come with me." Harry was still wearing Dudley clothing. The choice between this and his school robes wasn't hard. Snape left the room and Harry changed.  
  
"Come on Potter, I don't have all day," Snape yelled up at Harry.  
  
Harry thought to himself, "Every bit as hateful as usual. Snape, will you ever change?"  
  
He just hoped the Rest-Easy charm still wasn't relaying his thoughts. But it wasn't, because Snape had kept his same tone of voice and muttered some more while banging on Dudley's door.  
  
"All right, all right!" Harry shouted.   
  
He pulled the door open and Snape nearly fell over, still banging. They walked down the stairs and over to the fireplace. Snape turned to look at Harry.  
  
"We're going on a field trip," Snape told Harry. "You'll find out the details along the way."  
  
Harry really didn't feel like going anywhere with Snape at the moment.  
  
"Can't you just kill me and we'll call it even?" he suggested.  
  
Snape did nothing more than stare at him for a few seconds, look up at the fireplace, pull some floo powder out of his bag and tossed it onto a newly-burning fire.  
  
"After me," he said. Snape stepped into the fire and shouted, "the Burrow."  
  
Harry didn't bother asking himself why he wanted to stop at the Weasley's. He took a step into the fire, put his glasses in his pocket, closed his eyes and said, "Burrow."  
  
Harry never liked traveling by fireplace. He made sure not to pay attention to the trip and he couldn't arrive at the Weasley's soon enough. "This day is starting just as bad as the others," he thought to himself. The charm wiped his memory clean of the past day's events. All for the better, though. Harry was partially unconscious during the vision and didn't fully absorb it. As much as he wouldn't mind one of the Dursleys getting hurt, he would never wish one of them to die.  
  
Mrs. Weasley was the one who spoke first.  
  
"I've been checking old books on multi-person apparition."  
  
"Wow, multi-person apparition?" Harry asked.  
  
"Snape?"  
  
"The charm, remember?"  
  
"Oh, yes. Well anyway, it is old magic. Old and powerful. Many tried and not too many lived. Those that did were horribly deformed." Mr. Weasley listened intently.  
  
"And our friend did it at the age of fourteen," he said inquisitively.  
  
Everyone shot an eye at Harry. The same instant, everyone realized what they were doing as though they hadn't noticed and faced each other again. Harry looked around at all of them with confused eyes.  
  
"I do not think it is anything to-", started Snape and the last word reverberated on his lips for a moment. He continued, "worry ourselves over?" Snape kept his head and mouth in the same position of the last word for a few seconds. Harry looked indifferent. "The other matter which concerns us more is that with Dumbledore and the Weasleys."  
  
Harry's hearing turned for the worse as soon as this sentence finished. For a while, all he could hear was mumbles. This talk must be important because words were going back and forth between them all so fast Harry could not keep up.  
  
Mr. Weasley was in the middle of talking when Harry's hearing returned. "Where are they? Most importantly, what happened? Before Dumbledore... left us... he said it was for recovery and recollection."  
  
"What was?" piped up Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"You know."  
  
"Sorry, I don't."  
  
Snape got angry. "This isn't getting us anywhere. What about the other magic?"  
  
"Nothing on that one," answered Mr. Weasley. "Heard about someone do that, but they certainly didn't go clean through several walls and exit on the other side of a stone castle."  
  
"Maybe he faked it!" Ron had been listening in. He turned to see who else was in the room. "Harry!"  
  
"Oh, hi Ron." He looked up at Snape, Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley. "Can I go? I don't know what you're talking about and I've got this pounding headache."  
  
Before anyone else could open their mouths, Snape said, "Fine."  
  
qHarry followed Ron to his bedroom. They both took a seat on a bed.  
  
Ron began, "Do you have any idea what they are talking about?"  
  
"Nope!" Ron said something under his breath but Harry couldn't make it out. "Dyou want to go to Diagon Alley? I found out what books I need for next term. Better get them while I don't have to worry about Mum bugging me."  
  
"Let's go," Harry said and looked at what Ron was doing. Ron took out some floo powder but Harry stopped him immediately. "No, do we HAVE to use that?"  
  
"Oh, no, not really," said Ron. He pointed at a plug on the floor. "Here, touch that. Dad made a portkey for me because I told him I would be going without Mum. Took a little persuading, but he agreed. It will work exactly two times. I'll keep the one at the other end in my pocket when we get there."  
  
Sure enough, he touched it and, feeling a jerk behind his navel, was whisked away in a swirl of color from Ron's bedroom to just behind the magic brick wall at Diagon Alley. Ron's father worked at some place (Harry couldn't recall the name of at the moment) to protect Muggle objects from being bewitched. One of his fascinations was taking apart things and putting them back together. He took apart a car once, and bewitched it to fly. That gave Harry and Ron a trip they'll never forget. He also liked to collect plugs. Plugs from vacuums, plugs from lamps, plugs from computers (though Mr. Weasley had no idea what a computer was) and even spark plugs. No one besides him really knows why. Ron appeared a few seconds later.  
  
"Ah, first on the list is..." He peered down at the list. A frown crossed his face. "'Ron You're So Gullible'? What the bloody hell is this?" Harry started to laugh so hard he couldn't help almost rolling on the floor.  
  
"You didn't even read it? Who gave it to you, Fred?" Ron turned redder than usual. Harry was now on the floor. "I bet your dad was in on the joke," Harry could barely get out.  
  
"Keep laughing." No need to tell Harry that. "Let's go back."  
  
He looked at a plug on the floor with a note saying "Ron" attached to it and touched the portkey first.  
  
"Ron?" said Harry in a worried voice as Ron waved his hand with the plug in his fingers.  
  
He hadn't disappeared and Harry's laughing stopped. Whenever Mr. Weasley gave Ron a portkey, it always worked. He had been in on Fred and George pranks before but never gave Ron a dud portkey. Harry stood straight as a stick for a quick second, the hair on the back of his neck stood straight and he heard a voice in his head say, "They should be back by now?" Harry kept this fact from Ron at the moment because he didn't see Harry until he went normal again and he hid the small sparkle of glitter.  
  
"Oh, now what are we going to do?"  
  
"I guess we walk." Ron folded his arms at the thought of traveling like a Muggle. "Look what we're wearing." Ron was dressed in some new robes his parents had bought him. "We can't go walking out into town like this, they're going to give us funny looks!"  
  
"And?", said Harry, giving Ron a cold stare of his own. By now, Harry was used to getting funny looks. He was forever known as the boy with the scar on his head and everyone that saw him for the first time never failed to say his name in full. His first year at Hogwarts he got more funny looks than most people get in a life time. Then it happened.  
  
"Harry Potter!" said a little voice.  
  
Harry groaned. A small elf walked up to the two of them.  
  
"Go away," growled Harry.  
  
"Ok, Harry Potter!"  
  
He groaned some more rolling his eyes.  
  
"Ron, do you see what I have to put up with? Getting funny looks isn't all that bad."  
  
Ron had to agree and so they walked. Out through the Leaky Cauldron, out through the street and into the land of funny looks... and funny looks they did get.  
  
"I really wish they wouldn't do that," gulped Ron.  
  
"You get used to it after a while."  
  
They walked down a few streets and a few people shot piercing glares at Ron in his funny-looking clothing. People had seen others wearing robes before but it was still always strange to see. Harry became happy. Finally someone to share in his digust with! But Ron needed something else to think about.  
  
"What was Snape doing at our house?"  
  
"I don't know," Harry replied. "I don't want to be where he is, that's for sure."  
  
Harry stopped walking and stood still. His body froze again and his vision blacked out. He feelt the glitter but didn't know where it was this time. He saw Dumbledore standing up in a kitchen and appeared to be screaming. Dumbledore screaming? The weird vision was gone in an instant.  
  
"What? What is it?" Ron gave him a concerned look.  
  
"N-nothing." Harry was slightly disturbed but tried to continue as if it was nothing.  
  
They started to walk. Ron tried talking again in a few minutes.  
  
"I should probably tell you about --" and it happened again. Harry stood frozen. His eyes were forced closed and a green light flashed quickly. His eyes shot open as suddenly as they closed. Ron stood dumbfounded.  
  
"It's nothing," Harry lied.  
  
They walked the rest of the way silently, taking a Portkey Ron knew about to bring them many miles closer to his house. Ron was rather disturbed the entire trip back to his home not only at Harry but at the funny looks. Harry was quite indifferent but if just one more person pointed at his scar and screamed "HARRY POTTER!" he would be forced to grow warts on their nose. It was one thing around the wizard world, but another in Muggle Country.  
  
They knocked on the door of the Burrow and stepped inside. 


	3. Something to Ponder

Chapter 3: SOMETHING TO PONDER  
  
"Mum?" Ron shouted. Both of them took another step in. "Mum!" Ron called again. No one answered. "Oh, they must've gone out with Snape somewhere. Looks like we'll be alone for a bit. I mean, we were out for a few hours. Look, there's some floo powder by the fireplace."  
  
Ron went to the kitchen and Harry took a seat on a couch by the fireplace.   
  
It struck again. This time it wasn't a repeated scene from the last vision. His vision turned black. Mrs. Weasley was staring him in the face looking horribly frightened. A green flash of light and she was dead before she hit the ground.  
  
Harry felt his body turn to jelly from shock and he nearly fell forward where he sat.  
  
"Harry?" called Ron from the kitchen. There was an immense trembling in his voice. Harry stood up and walked into the kitchen to see what Ron was talking about. Ron stood there utterly motionless, his back facing Harry. Harry looked around to see what it was. The Portkey they took earlier was on the floor with a note attached to it. "Harry" was written on it. They both knew something was odd about this beside from the fact that it was written in blood. Harry couldn't pinpoint it.  
  
"Do you think," Harry began, "we should... you know..."  
  
"Go in?" The two of them looked at each other and they were equally scared. "Maybe we should get Herm --" but before he finished, the two of them had appeared right in front of Hermione in her house. Yet again, Harry felt the strange glitter, not knowing where it was.  
  
Hermione gasped. "No time to explain," Harry said quickly, "you have to come with us."  
  
His voice was still trembling. Hermione tried to explain to them she was in the middle of summer homework but of course that didn't stop Ron and Harry from kidnapping her. The three of them Disapparated again back to Ron's kitchen. The glitter feeling stopped.  
  
"You better sit down, Hermione," said Ron.  
  
She hadn't seen the Portkey yet. Harry tried to hide his worry about the strange glitter and the feeling it gave him. As he had now felt it several times, he begun to feel more of it. It was a feeling of power. Immense power. Power so strong, he didn't know what he couldn't do with it. He definitely wanted to keep this a secret. What would anyone say? And for how long could he keep it up? Surely he couldn't control it forever. But there were more pressing matters right now...  
  
Harry and Ron quickly explained the entire situation to Hermione, about how Fred tricked them into going to Diagon Alley, about how they walked home, about the multi-person apparition (Harry didn't think twice about what he heard earlier and what he just did with Ron) and about the Portkey. They failed to mention Harry's strange behavior, though.  
  
"Oh, and as if I have nothing better to do than risk my life for you two for another time? Fine." She started toward the   
portkey but Harry interrupted her.  
  
"The two of us couldn't go alone by ourselves. That would be suicide!" Ron exclaimed.  
  
"Oh, and with me, it's any less?" she retorted.  
  
"I should probably tell you something," Harry said, feeling he should explain the dreams, not knowing whether it was such a good idea.  
  
"About what?" Hermione asked.  
  
"You better sit down again. You too, Ron."  
  
Harry had no idea what he was going to say but suddenly a rush of thoughts entered his head like an overbearing tidal wave. Harry's headache turned into a slight pain from his scar. He took a seat as well trying to hide it.  
  
"I had... three strange visions, Ron," he began. "You didn't see the first one. When we Apparated" -- and with that word, Harry could no longer hear himself or his thoughts but his mouth kept moving -- "into Diagon Alley and the Portkey didn't work... I... heard your mum say 'They should be back by now?' Th-then the second one, I saw Dumbledore... screaming scared... very loudly at something." Harry's breathing became somewhat heavy, his eyes starting twitching but the pain from the scar stopped. "On the way home, it happened again." Harry put his head between his knees, feeling very sick. He didn't want to see the look on Ron's or Hermione's face. "Your mom stared me in the face... a green light flashed and she" -- Ron's eyes widened -- "died."  
  
Ron nearly fell over. He sat there, still, trembling. Harry stood up and ran into the kitchen. Ron and Hermione did not know about Dumbledore and the Dursleys and Harry's memory hadn't returned yet.  
  
"We have to go," said Harry with both confidence and fear, his voice shaking. And then he bcame even more fearful, the cofidence leaving him as... voices entered his head!?  
  
"No, no, no. I tried to kill you."  
  
"They died begging me for mercy."  
  
"You're dead, Harry Potter."  
  
Hermione and Ron could see Harry muttering under his breath.  
  
"NO!" Harry shouted, with a defiant look on his face. He stood up as straight as he could. "I don't think anyone's dead."  
  
"What is up with him?" Hermione asked Ron.  
  
"I don't know --" and before he finished, Harry touched the Portkey and all three of them were thrown into the forbidden forest. Harry stood, silent and brave. Trembling, but brave. Whatever words Hermione and Ron were going to say had left. Immediate thoughts turned to fear.  
  
"Do you have your wand, Hermione?" Ron quietly asked her so Harry couldn't hear.  
  
"No," she replied.  
  
Harry mumbled something and said, "Wait a minute."  
  
Sure enough, Hermione and Ron stood gaping as their wands could be seen rocketing towards them. Harry froze again. His eyes were forced shut and a picture of Dumbledore appeared in front of him. Something black came into view flying, fast, from left to right behind him. Dumbledore. He's not dead? The glitter was very light, but still visible, on his hands. He quickly put them in his cloak, trying to hide it.  
  
"What? What is it?" asked Ron.  
  
"Nothing," Harry said flatly. He stood shocked for a second at the thought. "Come on."  
  
All three of them knew it was daylight outside, but inside the forbidden forest, it was always night. The trees seem to grow before their eyes. None of them could know where they were. Any paths leading out seemed to eerily grow longer and longer. Harry's legs turned to jelly. He could see a black figure charging at him... and he fell to the floor as if dead.  
  
He awoke once more. A graveyard? The Death Eaters... no, those were not Death Eaters. Pettigrew. No, not Pettigrew either. In fact, Pettigrew wasn't anywhere. There was no cauldron and Voldemort was no where to be found. Those are dementors. Harry stood up. He spinned around looking at what had to be hundreds of dementors closing in on him. Dementors were the guards at the prison Azkaban. They drain happy memories and leave you with only terrible ones. Prisoners at Azkaban often go insane and kill themselves within a year. For Harry, the terrible memories need a new word. Because of which, he used to faint while hearing his parents voices during the night of the murder every time a dementor got close enough to him. It was not until Lupin had taught him how to conjure a Patronus, an anti-dementor which wards them off, could he bare being in their presence.  
  
Harry whipped out his wand and stood steadfast in the middle of the ring of dementors still closing in.  
  
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry bellowed and little more than a cloudy puff came out of his wand.  
  
"What was that?" said a voice in his head.  
  
Harry's head jerked to his left to see who the speaker was but there was no one there.  
  
"Let the dementors get him. They can kill you even if you're dreaming about them. I know, I saw it happen," said another voice.  
  
Harry's pulse quickened, his heart started hammering in his chest. His eyes were darting all around him, partly because of fear, partly because he wanted to see where everyone was.  
  
Quickly flashing lights filled Harry's vision.  
  
"No... no..."  
  
Harry began to feel limp. There was no one around him! What's going on?  
  
"Me! No, please, take me instead!"  
  
Loud crying filled the air... but it was all in his head... all in his head and making just as little sense...  
  
"STAND ASIDE, GIRL!"  
  
A flash of green light blurred everything. A shadow squirmed, twitched and then fell to the floor. Pain left and entered his scar as if someone were banging a hammer on it.  
  
"And now..."  
  
The green light flashed again but it was only sudden. Blackness filled his eyes. The dementors were standing right next to Harry but he was face down on the floor at this point, cold, scared, shaking. A shot of Dudley appeared across his eyes. His arms were cut off and he was laying face down. Dumbledore bent over him. All the while, Mr. Weasley had been screaming a charm Harry could not make out. The green light flashed again and Harry saw a picture of Mrs. Weasley's face. She fell to the floor dead. More green light. The victim was Mr. Weasley.  
  
"Do nothing unless I command you!" a voice cried.  
  
"The dementors can kill if it's just a dream!"  
  
More voices did not hesitate to speak and Harry, more confused than he had ever been, couldn't think of anything reasonable to say.  
  
"WHERE ARE YOU!" he roared.  
  
He then saw himself from above. There were thousands of dementors swarming around him.  
  
"Don't let go now!" cried another voice. They were coming at him from all directions.  
  
"You fight him, boy."  
  
"She wants to see you... it will be all right... hold on..."  
  
"Your mother's coming."  
  
There are voices from many different people and voices out of order from faint memories. Harry didn't understand a thing except that he was rising higher and higher away from the scene on the ground.  
  
"Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!"  
  
Something in him didn't want to die. Suddenly he zoomed back down directly on top of himself. All action appeared in slow motion and his vision was spinning. A dementor slowly lifted up it's hood. The putrid breath and horrid look on it's face was apparent even if you weren't in your own body. Harry saw it grab his neck. It was going to give him the Dementor's Kiss, a kiss of death that put you in a state worse than death. You would wander aimlessly with no soul because it would be torn from you like a child from it's mother. A scream filled his ears so loud Harry had to close his eyes and squint just to keep from going deaf. The dementor picked up Harry's head and put it near it's own. His vision stopped spinning and time paused for hours with the dementor an inch from executing it's kiss.  
  
"NO!"  
  
And Harry's vision went black.  
  
It didn't stay black for long.  
  
"He has a right to know."  
  
"Look at him, is he in any condition?"  
  
"Lily would want us to explain it."  
  
"He will be told when he is back in health."  
  
"He will be back in health when he's told."  
  
"Sanity is more important at the moment."  
  
Harry could hear the conversation in full but did not recognize anyone talking.  
  
"I --"  
  
"Fine. Tell him when you want to. I expect you to let me know if his condition improves."  
  
Angry footsteps walked away and a door slammed shut.  
  
"I wish they wouldn't treat him like this."  
  
The remaining voice sighed and exited through the same door. Harry's eyes opened. It appeared to be the hospital wing at Hogwarts. He rubbed his eyes at the sight of Madam Pomfrey standing over him.  
  
"Here, you should eat this."  
  
"No, not more chocolate."  
  
"Eat up, Harry."  
  
He snatched the chocolate frog from her hand and grudgingly ate it.  
  
"Chocolate is nature's own cure and you be glad it's not brussel sprouts. You'll be staying here for a few days. Dumbledore wouldn't tell me why, but I trust his judgement." 


	4. A Memory to Live Forever

Chapter 4: A MEMORY TO LIVE FOREVER  
  
She took a seat on a bed next to him and rested her arm on Harry's shoulder.  
  
"He did tell me, however, that suddenly you're having strange visions and feeling very, very tense," said Madam Pomfrey.  
  
She paused for a minute, opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it. Harry shot an inquisitive eye and tried to say something as well but just closed his eyes again.  
  
"Sleep well, Harry."  
  
Sleep he did, but the visions returned.  
  
The door closed behind Madam Pomfrey. Harry's vision blackened. Swirls of light filled the blackness and suddenly he could see Madam Pomfrey. She had found Professor Dumbledore and they were in the middle of a conversation.  
  
"The boy is suffering. You can think about it, but don't speak about it. He's probably using the foresight on you right now." Fore-what? "If we keep him calm, the nightmares will stop. He's going through a change and if it is what I think it is, I fear there's not much we can do."  
  
"You should not have said that then if he can hear us!"  
  
She gave a huge sigh and Dumbledore walked away. Foresight? Harry decided to concentrate hard on Dumbledore. His vision returned to normal and he woke up.  
  
"Figures, I shouldn't expect to be able to use it on him," he thought to himself. "Nightmares? Visions? What does she think I am, insane?"  
  
On that note Harry put his thoughts into Sirius, and it worked.  
  
Sirius had been walking around Hogsmeade as the great black dog. Third years and up from Hogwarts are allowed to walk around the town of Hogsmeade during certain weekends. Sirius stopped and said to himself in a low voice, "Harry?" Like being shoved out of the way, the picture of Sirius blacked out and Harry was once again awake. Wow, he thought. He could enter almost anyone and it would be as if he was really there. The celebration didn't last long and once again his vision blackened but not of his own will.  
  
Voldemort stood in front of him in the forbidden forest. Without thought or effort, the vision was whisked away. Harry sprang awake and sat up on his bed. Enough of this, he thought to himself. Some more concentration and he was able to grab Madam Pomfrey. Maybe he could get her to bring him a goblet of Sleeping Potion?  
  
He tried to speak.  
  
"Madam Pomfrey?"  
  
She stopped dead in her tracks and walked back to her office. There were hundreds of potions, herbs and strange vials. She pointed at a huge foot-tall jar labeled "Sleeping Potion."  
  
"Yes," Harry said.  
  
She smiled, poured some into a goblet and walked back to Harry. She too, was able to force Harry from herself. His body jerked and sprang awake.  
  
"You must not abuse that, Harry. Not many are gifted with foresight. Those that have it have all ended up working for You-Know-Who. They have also all ended up dead." Harry shook his head trying to get her words out of his mind, grabbed the goblet, inhaled the potion and had as good a sleep as he did the last time he took Sleeping Potion.  
  
The next morning Harry awoke to find Ron and Hermione sitting next to him talking to Madam Pomfrey. He opened his eyes but he didn't move so he could listen in without their knowing.  
  
"So let me get this straight," Ron said, "he has this mysterious ability to be right with someone else."  
  
"The Dursleys-" Hermione started, but like usual, Harry's hearing became nothing more useful than a handful of dirt. Thoughts raced across his head. The vision, Dudley on the floor, the thought of them being dead. It all hit him like a ton of bricks.  
  
"Correct," said Pomfrey. "It's all very sad. But be that as it may..." She looked over at Harry.  
  
"Look, he's awake," said Hermione. Indeed, Harry accidently opened his eyes and turned to look at them at the thought of the Dursleys. He gave them all an innocent look.  
  
"Would someone please explain," he begged.  
  
"I guess there's no putting it off," said Hermione heavily. "Let's just hope D-Dumbledore!"  
  
Dumbledore had just walked in.  
  
"Do you want to tell him or should I?" Dumbledore grinned.  
  
"Go ahead," Madam Pomfrey said.  
  
"Here's what we do know. Oh, before I start Harry, take a sip of this." Harry took the goblet Dumbledore carried in with him and took a sip. It tasted like he had took a sip from a toilet. He spit it out in disgust.  
  
"That tastes like toilet water!" he griped.  
  
"Do you want to blank out again when I mention... well... do you want to black out again?" said Dumbledore, smiling grimly.  
  
After forcing down a sip, he handed it back to Dumbledore with a look of pure disgust on his face.  
  
"Now then. I shall start from the beginning.  
  
"The minute you got home from Hogwarts, you felt terrible disgust at having to live with The Dursleys --" but whatever the potion was supposed to do, it didn't work and Harry's hearing blotched out Dumbledore's words.  
  
Dumbledore kept talking but Harry had to interrupt. "I can't hear you," he said loudly.  
  
Dumbledore paused long enough for his hearing to return.  
  
"Take another sip," he said.  
  
"Ah, good. Now. Having to live with the Dursleys for eleven long years is one thing. Having to live with them after previous events... it's starting to take a toll on you, Harry. You were hearing voices, having strange visions. Dormant abilities, ones that are only supposed to show with careful training, are showing up without it. I knew from the minute you could Apparate a group of people that something was wrong. Before many wizards learn to control magic, their abilities are only seen during a heightened sense of emotion. Such emotion... is usually anger." Voldemort, Harry thought, had much to hate after his downfall. "You Apparated yourself with Hedwig out of frustration. You were able to do it again because of fear and a third time due to sadness. The vision with Voldemort was anger. Very few wizards are born with an ability of foresight, to peer into another and travel as if being there. It is present in you... but very weak. You had attempted it on me..." Harry felt his stomach sink. "I understand, but using foresight on me can have dire consequences," he said with a smile. "In all truthfulness, one cannot attempt it on another with it as well." This sure explained how Dumbledore knew many things that could not be explained. "Your foresight was growing every time you went to sleep. You were so angry with Uncle Vernon in the hospital that it went out of your control. A past memory invaded your thoughts, emotional pain took over and you relived a terrible scene with Voldemort. I sent Snape to pick you up so you wouldn't decide to question what happened the night before even if the memory charm failed. It would appear it did fail. We do not yet know where or who is behind the disappearance of Ron's parents --"  
  
"No," Harry said in a soft voice. He began to tremble. A slight pain flashed in his scar.  
  
"Try to not-"  
  
"No!" he said in a louder voice. Dumbledore ran to get the Sleeping Potion but it was too late. "NO!" Harry screamed at the top of his lungs. The entire castle must have heard. Footsteps came running from every direction. The door flew open and Ron, Hermione, Sirius... and the Dursleys stood just outside.  
  
"Harry! Albus, what is WRONG with him?" Aunt Petunia cried.  
  
"Leave --" and Harry gripped his head in complete agony. There was no one to give the Dursleys a memory charm this time. Sirius would not punch Harry in front of Madam Pomfrey. In fact, no one could do anything. All attempts at slipping him potions resulted in spills and he didn't stay still long enough for charms. Everyone stared gaping with mouths open. Surely the pain was not just a scar, but a knife cutting his head wide open. He jerked and twisted in futile attempts to contain the feeling. He knocked over all sorts of things writhing in pain. All anyone could do was wait until it passed.  
  
Finally the pain subsided. Harry crumpled himself into a ball on the floor. Tears filled his eyes and everyone could see a small puddle on the floor. The room was in shambles. Harry continued to cry like a newborn baby from the episode. Dumbledore spoke as if to finish his sentence, "the room." Aunt Petunia bent over Harry and tried to pick him up. He swung his arms wildly to fend off her evil grasp.  
  
"Don't touch me!" he cried.  
  
Harry could barely contain himself. Suddenly everyone found themself flying ten feet down the hall from the entrance of room.  
  
"What have you done to the boy!" Uncle Vernon shrieked.  
  
"Absolutely nothing," replied Dumbledore calmly.  
  
"Then why does he act like this all the time?!"  
  
"All the time?" said Dumbledore, his brow furrowed. "Surely --"  
  
"Lately whenever I see him that stupid scar constantly bothers him!" Dumbledore became angry.  
  
"Only around you, Mr. Dursley." Vernon glared evilly at Dumbledore.  
  
"RUBBISH! That boy was perfectly fine before he came to your school. School of Withcraft... and-and-and-and Wizardy!"  
  
"SHUT UP! JUST - SHUT - UP!" There was no mistake in the tone of Harry's voice, even Vernon jumped. "You don't care about me!" Dumbledore's words fell out of Harry and he forgot everything he said. Dumbledore was trying to coach him into controlling foresight and he didn't care about that, didn't care much for anything... just wanted to speak his mind... "Eleven years I sat in that cupboard away from the real world. Thrown away, ALL OF IT THROWN AWAY!" Ron pointed out that Harry is "Gonna burst!" and so he did. Everyone ran back to the room.  
  
Not what anyone expected, though. Harry crawled back into his bed and started to sob again. There was a moment of silence.  
  
"I think it's best if we leave him --" started Dumbledore.  
  
"No, it's alright," Harry interrupted, "you can stay." The crying spell didn't last long. He had time to pull himself together. "But they have to go." Harry mumbled something under his breath and the Dursleys disappeared. He felt the mysterious glitter under his clothing and checked on them to make sure they arrived at their house, and they did. "I don't think it's just them, Professor Dumbledore."  
  
"I understand your frustration, Harry. The day we dropped you off at their front door, there was no where else to put you. No one wanted you growing up in the wizard world where everyone knows your name. Of course, we had no idea your relatives were --"  
  
"No idea?!" Harry shouted. "Look at them! I'm sure you kept watch on them before I was left with them!"  
  
"Now, Harry --"  
  
"No!" he said. There was a minute's silence before either of them spoke. "Voldemort," said Harry coldly.  
  
"He is not involved, I assure --"  
  
"Don't assure me anything. It makes perfect sense. Uncle Vernon buys Dudley a deadly snake while I was here. I start having strange visions... I -- I didn't tell you about them, did I..."  
  
"No, you did not, but I know about them."  
  
"All of them? The one in the forest? The one with the dementors?"  
  
The expression Dumbledore's face was carrying dropped.  
  
"Harry, you MUST tell me about those," Dumbledore said, very surprised and calmly. Harry started to relive the dream with the dementors perfectly.  
  
"I was face down in the graveyard. Thousands of dementors were surrounding me." The first vision of the dementors flashed before his eyes and he blinked. "I tried to summon a Patronus but... it failed." The memory of the cloudy puff of his wand was visible. "They kept getting closer and closer. I started to hear voices but didn't know what they were talking about." The voices began in Harry's head again and he spoke them to Dumbledore. "'What was that?' one of them said. 'Let the dementors get him. They can kill you even if you're dreaming about them. I know, I saw it happen.' 'STAND ASIDE, GIRL!' They weren't stopping. 'The dementors can kill if it's just a dream!' I knew it was a dream, but I was so scared." Harry started visibly shaking. His eyes lost all expression and he started taking steady, slow, deep breaths through his mouth.  
  
"Very strange I did not know about that one. Furthmore, dementors cannot kill you if you're just dreaming about them. Harry," said Dumbledore as he started to walk around him, "you are right. Those are not just visions --"  
  
"Voldemort," Harry whispered so only he could hear.  
  
"-- they have outside influence. What was the other one?"  
  
"I just saw Voldemort staring at me. We stood in the Dark Forest, but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared." He started to look around the room aimlessly. "Him. Voldemort has Ron's parents." Harry whipped his head and stared Dumbledore straight in the eye. Dumbledore never saw such fear.  
  
"I knew it."  
  
"Knew what?"  
  
"Who would want me weak? Who would take Ron's parents! HE KNOWS I WOULD COME! The bloody letter, the dreams..."  
  
"You can't go alone, Harry."  
  
"I have to," he said with a trembling voice. "I saw you die, I saw him kill you and the Dursleys. You'll die if you go!"  
  
"You might, too."  
  
"I have to try." Harry wouldn't listen to Dumbledore any longer.  
  
"Fine. Fine, fine, fine. Go, Harry. But... be careful. I see only one problem, however."  
  
"THE FOREST!" Ron came in screaming bringing Hermione with him.  
  
"I guess that question is settled," said Dumbledore against his better judgement. "The three of you will go." Hermione and Ron shook their heads. Harry nodded at the two of them.  
  
"How do you know it's the forest?" asked Harry.  
  
"Where else around here does Voldemort have the best chance of scaring us half to death?" said Ron.  
  
"Ready, Ron?" asked Harry.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
She took a few seconds to reply. "Yes."  
  
The three of them checked to make sure they had their wands. Hermione and Ron closed their eyes and stood perfectly still. With one word, they all appeared somewhere in the forbidden forest. Harry felt the glitter feeling grow slightly.  
  
The challenges didn't wait. A giant spider was right in front of them.  
  
"RUN!" Harry screamed.  
  
The three dashed backwards, stumbling over branches and rocks as they started. The spider let out a huge scream and was thrusted up into the air several hundred feet. A howl of wind followed it. The three stopped their running and looked up dumbfounded.  
  
"Maybe if you can control that, Harry, we might stand more of a chance," Hermione said.  
  
It landed on the ground with a loud crunch. A leg broke off and flew over Ron's head. "Better get your wands out, you two. There's lots of creepy stuff in here, I'd imagine."  
  
There was no need to argue the point. A sharp but quick pain errupted from Harry's scar.  
  
"Ugh!" He fell but stopped himself with his hands and held his forehead. "He can't be that far away." Ron helped him up and they continued to walk.  
  
"How do we know where we're going?" asked Hermione.  
  
"I don't know," replied Harry. "Just keep walking, something will happen."  
  
"What if it's bad?" asked Ron.  
  
He stopped walking. Harry and Hermione turned to look at him.  
  
"What if it already happened, Ron," said Harry.  
  
Ron gulped at the thought. Did it? Were his parents already dead? No one said anything. Harry and Hermione kept walking and Ron caught up to them. They walked for a long time without drama, but it wasn't long before Hermione screamed.  
  
"HARRY WATCH OUT!"  
  
Something big and black dashed out at them from behind a big tree and knocked Hermione down. It dashed back into the darkness but not before taking Hermione's wand.  
  
"Great!" she exclaimed.  
  
"Here, take mine," said Harry.  
  
"But --"  
  
"Take it," he insisted.  
  
"You're the one with the strong magic. You need it more than I do!"  
  
"I don't need a wand. I pushed Voldemort through a wall at Hogwarts without it, I apparated without it, I did the levitation spell again without it." He was right. "Let's keep walking." There was still no sign of where they should be walking. The farther and farther into the forest they walked, the more hope they lost of ever getting out alive or finding Ron's parents. More dangers would present themselves.  
  
"Do you think you could use foresight on my mum or dad?" asked Ron. It was, after all, the obvious choice. How come no one thought of it before? A smile beamed across Harry's face.  
  
"I don't know. Let me try." They all stopped walking and stood still as Harry attempted it. He concentrated hard on Mrs. Weasley. His vision blackened but went normal again almost instantly. Harry looked surprised.  
  
"What? What is it?" asked Ron. Harry tried again. His vision darkened and he heard a voice. Harry felt a cold chill down his back and shook, his eyes widened and he gasped.  
  
"I heard something."  
  
"Tell me! Tell me what it is!" said Ron with a great sense of anxiety.  
  
"It said, 'Close by, yes-'" he started, but suddenly they all could hear the voice.  
  
"-yes. Come closer and they will be dead."  
  
The voice let out a high, cold, mirthless laugh and dissolved into the air. The echoes filled their ears. The black figure dashed out in front of them knocking both Ron and Hermione over snatching Ron and Harry's wand. The voice came back.  
  
"Oh, hello there." It spinned around them as they spoke. It could've come from any direction. "What good are two wizards and their young Dark Lord without their wands?" The voice let out another laugh.  
  
"It's just trying to scare us!" Ron said. "Harry is no Dark Lord, are you, Harry?" Harry recalled the Sorting Hat trying to put him into Slytherin. Would he be the first wizard to go bad that didn't come out of Slytherin? More and more dark magic seemed to show itself.  
  
"The Sorting Hat... tried to put me... in Slytherin." Harry's lips began to tremble as if starting to cry again. The other two glared at him. "Dumbledore told me that I was meant for Gryffindor... because I didn't want to be in Slytherin."  
  
"Yes," said the voice. "Oh, Harry... are those tears? Maybe a little battle will raise your spirits!"  
  
A cloudy puff formed in front of them and transformed into a mountain troll. A huge mountain troll, more than twice the size of the one they knocked out in their first year at Hogwarts, stood in front of them. "Maybe a magic-infused troll will help?" The troll seemed to be quickly growing in size. The club it carried consisted of a human body tightly secured in bloody chains. It was missing large chunks of skin. The head had been long gone and the skull looked brittle. Harry tried to focus on the troll to thrust it backwards... and it worked.  
  
The troll flew backwards at breakneck speed into the trees uprooting them right out of the ground. "That's not going to stop it," said the voice. "Better try harder!"  
  
The troll came running back. It closed in to Harry and raised it's club high into the air. Swing... and miss. Harry rolled out of the way inches from being hit. The troll stumbled and fell on the ground with a stupid look on it's face.  
  
"Help!" Harry yelled. Ron and Hermione just stood watching.  
  
"How?" Hermione snapped. The troll stood up again. "Our wands, remember!"  
  
The troll kept growing. By now it had to be four times the size of the first troll they saw. It towered over the trees, almost too tall to see the three little ants running along it's feet.  
  
"It's getting too big!" screehed Ron. Harry got a quick break while the troll tried to stand up (it stepped on a large tree and poked it's foot and fell again).  
  
"IMPEDIMENTA!" Harry screamed as loud as he could and pointed his finger at the troll. A ray of light shot out the top and rocketed towards the troll. The troll froze in place and fell on it's back.  
  
"It won't stay frozen for long!" The voice reminded them of this fact.  
  
"We better kill it this time," Harry said. "Reducio!" and the troll shrunk to the size of Hagrid.  
  
The effect was short-lived. Within seconds, the troll grew back to it's previous size. It got back control of itself and scrambled to it's feet.  
  
"RUN!" Harry screamed.  
  
The troll paused for a moment and as it ran, its heinously large feet shook the ground. The three weren't fast enough -- the troll was gaining ground.  
  
"Maybe we can use it's club against it?" said Hermione, thinking of their last encounter with trolls. They were all out of breath, this was their last hope. Harry turned around and began to run backwards. The other two followed suit.  
"Wingardium leviosa!" Harry yelled. The club flew up, but taking the troll with it. "Oh no, it's grabbing onto it too tight!"  
"Well just make it go higher and higher," exclaimed Ron. Higher and higher the club flew but the troll started to grow faster. It's feet began to get closer to the floor.  
  
"That's it, we're dead," gulped Ron.  
  
The voice let out an insane laugh.  
  
"No. We're not dead yet," said Harry in a cold, brooding voice.  
  
The troll grew and grew, the club flew higher and higher. It grew so fast it's feet stuck planted on the ground. Harry's hand sparkled as if golden for a brief moment and only he noticed it.  
  
"Avada Kedavra," Harry said, staring crossly at the troll's eyes. Harry's previous spell stopped. All the color seeped out of the troll as it began to turn red. It's skin began to boil.  
  
"Cool," said the three of them.  
  
They started to turn away when they saw what was going to happen but it was too late... A squishy blast filled the air as a tidal wave of blood and guts sprayed everywhere. A red ocean flew into the air and all three of them looked up as it rose, seconds later splashing all over, nailing them in the face. From head to toe, roots to tree top, the entire forest was blood red. The three looked exactly like they would had they went swimming in the stuff, soaked to the skin. Harry stood there breathing very deep and slowly. Ron and Hermione looked at him gaping with nothing coming to mind. No one said anything for several minutes because they needed to catch their breath and prevent themselves from losing their breakfast.  
  
"Was that supposed to happen?" asked Ron, finally able to speak. Harry flapped his arms in a feeble attempt to shake off the troll's unusually thick blood, then licked his lips and spit.  
  
"Have to ask Dumbledore when we get out of here," he suggested.  
  
"You aren't going to make it out..." said the voice.   
  
"YES WE WILL!" shouted all three of them. The voice let out another laugh.  
  
"Such brave little souls. Would be a shame if they were to be taken from you. Hah, aha, ahahahahahaha!" The voice could hardly contain it's excitement. Dementors appeared out of nowhere and swarmed around them. Harry's vision blackened for a quick moment and he saw flashes of the vision with the dementors. It wasn't a prediction, was it? He felt the glitter vanish very abruptly.  
  
They all spinned around looking at what had to be hundreds of dementors closing in on them.  
  
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry bellowed and little more than a cloudy puff came out of his wand.  
  
"What was that?" said a voice in his head.  
  
All of them heard it. Harry's head jerked to his left to see who the speaker was but there was no one there.  
  
"Let the dementors get them. You won't have to worry about showing yourself."  
  
Harry's pulse quickened, his heart started hammering in his chest. His eyes were darting all around him, partly because of fear, partly because he wanted to see where everyone was.  
  
Quickly flashing lights filled Harry's vision.  
  
"No... no..."  
  
Harry began to feel limp. There was no one around them except that bodiless voice. He looked around at Hermione and Ron. They, too, were losing control.  
  
"Me! No, please, take me instead!"  
  
Loud crying filled the air.  
  
"STAND ASIDE, GIRL!"  
  
For a fleeting moment the three of them saw a flash of green light and it blurred everything. A shadow squirmed, twitched and then fell to the floor.  
  
"And now..."  
  
The green light flashed again but it was only sudden. Blackness filled Harry's eyes. Whatever was happening to him though, he knew was happening to Ron and Hermione. The dementors were closing in fast to all three of them. Dumbledore bent over to a limping Dudley. All the while, they heard Mr. Weasley screaming a charm no one could make out. The green light flashed again and Harry saw a picture of Mrs. Weasley's face. She fell to the floor as if dead. More green light. It bounced off Mr. Weasley as it hit, ricocheting off into the distance. He, too, fell as if dead.  
  
"Do nothing unless I command you!" a voice cried.  
  
"The dementors will do it. Trust me!"  
  
More voices did not hesitate to speak and Harry, more confused than he had ever been, couldn't think of anything reasonable to say. He felt himself drowning in a coldness he never thought possible, freezing his skin, stopping his heart...  
  
"I KNOW IT'S YOU, VOLDEMORT!" he screamed, costing him every ounce of his energy.  
  
The dementors stopped dead in their tracks leaving a circle of no more than ten feet. There were thousands of dementors around them.  
  
"Don't give up, now!" cried another voice. The voices were coming from all directions.  
  
"You three fight him."  
  
"She wants to see you... it will be all right... hold on..."  
  
"Your parents are coming."  
  
There were voices from many different people and voices out of order from faint memories. No one bothered to comprehend the scene.  
  
"Stand aside! I will kill them! They are mine!"  
  
Something in them didn't want to die. It didn't want to give up.  
  
Harry moaned to himself, crying softly. The worst had come. He was going to die reliving the worst memories of his life.  
  
A dementor slowly lifted up it's hood and walked towards Harry. The putrid breath and horrid look on it's face was strong. It grabbed Harry's head. It was going to give him the Dementor's Kiss. The dementor put Harry's head near it's own. His vision began spinning and time paused for hours with the dementor an inch from executing it's kiss.  
  
"NO!" he screamed costing him the last of his will.  
  
Harry's vision went black and he fell to the floor. All he could hear for several minutes were muffled screams and cries of great pain. He could suddenly see himself from above. The dementor had done it. Harry was parted with his soul.  
  
His body fell to the ground, limp with a thud of lifeless flesh upon earth. Indescribable sadness filled the face of Ron and Hermione as the dementors began to depart leaving Harry as a mere memory. The dementors left them alone. Why, they thought furiously, why? Soon, they thought, Harry would get up and try to kill them.  
  
Harry did get up, but it was a mere shadow invisible to mortal eyes. Hermione ran over to Harry's body throwing her arms around him, crying heavily. The blood on her cheeks became watery from tears and fell like a waterfall down her face. Ron and Hermione sat for hours staring at the body but nothing happened. It was as if the curse would spare them the horror of seeing Harry as a soulless zombie.  
  
But he was floating mere feet above them, unable to communicate in any way. Tears had long stopped falling from Hermione's eyes, but she still did not stop crying. Ron and Hermione's hearts sank deeper and deeper, so deep they began to fall asleep not caring if anything was going to kill them, too. They prayed their killer be a zombified Harry.  
  
Harry floated above them the entire time they were asleep. Many beasts had tried to come after them but Harry need no more than float to the predator and it would run away immediately. Harry stared at the scene below him and could not believe it. Harry Potter... dead? Hours passed by, the day sky turned to night and he was still there staring down at himself. Dementors had taken the life of one so young. Never would he see Cho, the one girl he thought he ever liked. Never would he walk. He would just be forgotten, dead, lost, completely alone... Voldemort had won. Harry Potter was dead. He felt like he would cry but what were tears to a ghost?  
  
But at the very least, Harry knew what Ron and Hermione were dreaming. Ron had been reliving the first precious moments when they met on the train, when they knocked out the mountain troll, when they found out about Sirius, when they rode the flying car... Hermione had been dreaming about when she first saw Harry, after they won the House Cup all their years and all his winning Quidditch games... The ghost of Harry would soon fall asleep, too. 


	5. Book of Memories

Chapter 5: BOOK OF MEMORIES  
  
Hermione blinked her eyes and woke up. She had her head on Ron's chest the entire time and there was a great pain in her neck for sleeping like that. She tried not to remember the previous night's dreams, it was all too painful. She poked Ron and he woke up. To both their great surprise, neither of them were hurt, physically, that is. If someone could see their hearts, there would be a big scar.  
  
The foul stench of dried blood pierced their noses. Hermione's lips began to quiver.  
  
"Is he really... dead?" she said.  
  
Ron was just as sad. He nodded his head.  
  
"We better find a way back," he said coarsely.  
  
Hermione would do all the talking. For all they knew, Ron's parents were dead as well. After a few minutes of walking in random directions, they found a path. Ron remembered when they were in here with Hagrid once and he told them to stay on the path. Following the path would hopefully get them out.  
  
They followed the path for about an hour, and, amazingly, ended up right next to Hagrid's hut. Ron dashed around the front and knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Hermione grabbed Ron by the collar and ran full on to the castle. Professor Minerva McGonagall saw them and nearly fainted.  
  
"Er," started Hermione. They had both completely forgotten what they looked like. The blood from the troll looked like it had permanently stained their clothing. "It's not ours. It was a troll. Harry blew it up like fireworks!" she exclaimed happily.   
  
McGonagall's face squinted at the thought.  
  
"Harry..." Hermione said in a soft voice.  
  
The moment was happy, but the memory reminded her. McGonagall's eyes lit up. She thought nothing of Harry not being with them.  
  
"Where is he?" she asked.  
  
Hermione couldn't take it. She burst into tears and Ron caught her before she fell. Ron finally had enough strength back to speak.  
  
"Dead," he said quietly.  
  
Professor McGonagall looked as if the life was ripped violently from her.  
  
"You're joking," she said weakly.  
  
Ron closed his eyes, shook his head and opened them again.  
  
Professor McGonagall stood there for a minute before saying, "My god... Oh... Potter -- no, Weasley, Granger, come with me."  
  
She grabbed them both by the hands and took them to Dumbledore's office running as fast as her legs let her. She flung the door open so hard it nearly broke off it's hinges. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley and Dudley were standing there. Everyone except Dumbledore fainted at the sight of Ron and Hermione. Fortunately for Mr. Filch, the blood had dried completely and was no longer dripping. A foul stench followed them everywhere they went, though.  
  
"Ennervate!" Dumbledore shouted and everyone who fainted woke up. "He's finally done it. Got himself killed," said Dumbledore and he hung his head low.  
  
Aunt Petunia looked ready to faint again.  
  
"Did you see?" she asked. "Who did it?"  
  
"It was a dementor," said Hermione. "Ate his soul. We slept in the forest all night." Hermione's lips were still quivering and Dumbledore looked at her oddly.  
  
"And you weren't hurt?" asked Professor McGonagall.  
  
"No. Professor, I thought when a dementor kisses you, you're supposed to become a zombie? Harry's body was still there just as they left it..."  
  
"Indeed, you are," said Dumbledore. "Tell me, what's that you're covered in?"  
  
"Troll blood," said Hermione.  
  
"Must have been a rather large troll," said Dumbledore slowly. "No, wait. Before you continue, tell me the entire story from beginning to end. You've beared Harry's death, slept in the forbidden forest and managed to walk all the way back here without incident. Show me the rest of your courage that Harry would want to see."  
  
The moment was too unreal for anyone and there was a steady stream of emotion leaking down Hermione's face.  
  
Harry, dead, and a foul reminder of the scene covered Ron and Hermione. A half smile appeared on Ron and Hermione's faces. Anything to make the memory of him happy, Hermione thought. She started to mention the giant spider they ran into, and how Harry had thrusted it hundreds of feet into the air, and how it died when it landed. She told them about the black figure that swiped their wands, how Harry had given Hermione his wand. She explained how Harry tried to use foresight on Mrs. Weasley and they all heard a voice saying 'Close by, yes. Come closer and they will be dead.' She told them about the black figured dashing out again and stealing the other two wands. Hermione explained about how the voice called Harry a young Dark Lord and how they fought the mountain troll including how Harry exploded it. Dumbledore stopped her before she continued.  
  
"Blew it up? What do you mean 'blew it up?'"  
  
"Exactly that," said Ron. "It just exploded. He used the Killing Curse. Boils were growing on it's skin, it was bubbling, then boom. It was rather revolting," he added, his face screwing up in disgust as he recalled it.  
  
"That curse is not supposed to explode it's target. Never have I heard of such a thing. It causes the target great pain, stops the heart and drains the life out of the body."  
  
"Well Harry's didn't do that because the heart was still beating as it flew through the air," said Hermione, feeling her throat stop up.  
  
"Please continue, Hermione."  
  
After a deep breath, she told them about the dementors. The voices they heard, how they stopped and then finally how it executed it's kiss on Harry. This had drained the last of Hermione's strength and she burst into tears again.  
  
"Harry did not become the undead and there is a reason for it," said Dumbledore. Everyone looked up with slight hope. "I don't know why. Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley... did you see a ghost? Did anything seem or feel out of the ordinary?"  
  
"No," said Ron quietly.  
  
Dumbledore sighed and then continued.  
  
"Unfortunately, the thought of bringing Harry back is not going to do anyone much good. There is no magic to restore the dead to the living..."  
  
"THERE HAS TO BE!" cried Hermione. "I can't... I just can't," and she surprised everyone by running over to Ron and crying on his shoulder. He put a hand around her back and the other on the back of her head.  
  
"This day will live forever," said Dumbledore gravely. "No one -- not in a thousand years -- will forget Harry Potter."   
  
Hermione turned to Mr. Dursley. "YOU! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" she shouted.  
  
Hermione pounded on him as hard as she could but soon her hands became weak and she began crying on him, too. He stood dumbfounded at the sight of a fourteen year old crying like she just lost a guide in her life. Hermione stomped out of the room trying to wipe her tears. Ron chased after her.  
  
"Hermione," he said cajolingly. "There's nothing you, me or anyone can --"  
  
"No! There has to be. Harry can't die, he just can't!"  
  
She cried all the way up to her room. The Fat Lady didn't even ask for a password at the sight of her and Hermione didn't care school wasn't in session. She walked up to her old bed and laid down. She cried herself to sleep. The smell of dried blood still didn't bother her.  
  
The next morning, Hermione woke up with quite a different aura. She changed into clean Muggle clothes, set the dirty robes on fire in a glass plate and walked herself down to the library where Ron sat.  
  
"Hello," she said pleasantly when she saw Ron.  
  
"Morning, what are you here for?"  
  
"Oh, just looking." Ron's head moved back and he squinted.  
  
"What are you up to?"  
  
Both of them seemed to forget about the previous two days. It was either too hard to remember, or they were both too engrossed in what they were reading, but either way it was a good thing.  
  
"Oh, just reading, trying to take my mind off things, you know? What are you here for?"  
  
"Same."  
  
"But, Ron, you don't read."  
  
Ron refused to answer and Hermione wouldn't push the point.  
  
She snatched a few books off the shelves. "Damning Dementors," "What To Do When Your Friends Stop," "Ancient Rituals of Early 3200 B.C.," and without letting Ron see, she walked out of the library and back up to her dormitory. The burnt clothes left an even fouler stench than the unburnt ones. Hermione covered her nose and walked back out.  
  
Climbing out of the portrait hole of the Fat Lady, Ron bumped into her and she dropped a book.  
  
"'What To Do When Your Friends Stop?' Hermione..." but she didn't want to listen. She picked the book up.  
  
"Hey, you want to smell something nice and refreshing? Go walk into the girl's dormitory."  
  
Ron did, but he came back with his finger on his nose and his hand whipping the air under it.  
  
"Oh, good morning!" she said sarcastically and trotted back to the library.  
  
Hagrid was sitting there reading a book as well. He put his hand over the title as soon as Hermione sat down next to him.  
  
"Mornin' Hermione," he said brightly. Hermione gave him a frown and began reading. She saw Ron walk in in the corner of her eye and he began talking to Hagrid quietly.  
  
"Been acting weird all morning, that one," said Ron.  
  
"Yeh don' say?" said Hagrid gruffly. "I said 'good morning' ter her and she jus' frowns at me."  
  
"I wonder what books she's got there," said Ron. Hagrid frowned at Ron and put his head back into his book, as well. "A nightmare, all of you."  
  
"I heard that," said Hagrid and Hermione at the same time. Ron clutched his book and walked away.  
  
"So what yeh got there?" asked Hagrid. Hermione picked her books up and walked to another table. "Eh... Ron's right," he said to himself.  
  
"I heard that," Hermione said.  
  
Hagrid gave her a look of disgust.  
  
It seemed everyone in the library had their head buried in something. Hermione looked up and gazed around the room. Dumbledore, Petunia, McGonagall, Hagrid, Ron, Snape... A great black dog sat in one corner of the library. No one seemed to care it was staring at a book perched up against a wall. Every once in a while it would turn the page with it's paw. Hermione looked back down at her book, finished the page and turned it. Hermione gasped and began to read loud enough for everyone to hear.  
  
"Dementors are known for their kiss. Once a victim has been kissed, their soul parts from their body and they walk as soulless --"  
  
"SSHHHHHHHH!" someone said. Hermione would have none of this and continued to read aloud.  
  
"-- zombies," she said as she gave the shusher a forceful glare. "Some wizards have been able to escape this state, however." She paused as everyone stood up and looked in her direction. "There were a few, very few, who did not rise from their body. It has been said these were people who would not let go of the mortal plane." By this time, everyone had crowded around her. "It is unknown if there is any truth to such rumors. Studies have been done in trying to piece together clues as to what causes such a thing to happen or if," the book went on, and Hermione gave the next part great emphasis, "THE PROCESS CAN BE REVERSED.  
  
"To date, no one has been able to find the soul of a victim of a dementor so no further research could ever be done. It is known that the soul is supposed to float above it's body for several hours after it's departure." Hermione gasped.  
  
"That's why we weren't hurt in our sleep," Ron said. "Harry was there floating above us!"  
  
"Where was this?" asked a cold voice behind them.  
  
It was Professor Snape but his tone wasn't as cold as usual.  
  
"They cried themselves to sleep in the Forbidden Forest that day," said Sirius after transforming into Harry's godfather. He wanted to make sure Snape wasn't going to say anything rude.  
  
"Shut up, you two," snapped Hermione. Before either of them could reply, she continued to read aloud. "Forbidden rituals do exist to call upon dead spirits, but such incantations have only resulted in more deaths. This branch of magic has died through the ages. Some say it's own followers killed themselves off."  
  
Professor Trelawney had creeped in and had her share to say. Before she could get a word out, everyone had hushed her up. Ghosts help them if she had anything bad to say...  
  
"So it's true, we can bring him back!" Hermione was beside herself with tears of joy.  
  
"Maybe we can but we don't know how --" said Ron.  
  
"We just need to keep looking," said Hermione as if everything was going to be just fine.  
  
They looked in the library until the sun gave up, too. No one found anything. Was it a false hope? A lost wish? A dead end? She didn't seem to care. Hermione had at least ten books stacked up next to her. She floated them back to her bed and fell asleep.  
  
But she started to have nightmares over the next few days. She would wake up sweating and shivering at the same time. Her heart never beat faster. The dreams were always one of two episodes. In one of them, Harry got up off the ground and exploded Ron and her. He cackled madly and followed the dementors back into the depths of the forest. In the other, Harry would suddenly thrust all the dementors away and Disapparate everyone to safety. The dreams haunted her, and everyone could see her interest in reading fade away. Ron helped her until she eventually gave up after a week.  
  
"There's nothing, Ron," she snapped as Ron tried to show her a book aptly titled When All Hope Is Lost.  
  
"Fine," Ron snapped back. "Give up. But the rest of us aren't."  
  
She ran away and into the Great Hall. Dumbledore had succumbed to the idea of Hogwarts being occupied this summer and started up the kitchens.  
  
Another week passed. Hermione was very bitter towards anyone trying to show her something. People tried to show her passages from different books but she flailed her arms in digust, usually knocking the book over. Ron, however, never stopped spending at least three hours a day looking at different books. Everyone had permission to look in the Restricted Section and soon there were more books taken out from that section than the unrestricted sections. Any attempts to get Hermione to read a book resulted in her running away.  
  
"I give up!" shouted Hagrid late one clear blue night when the library had nearly emptied and Hermione was just there because Ron wouldn't leave Gryffindor Tower without her.  
  
"Finally, someone sees it my way," Hermione muttered under her breath.  
  
"You want him to stay dead then, don't you?" Ron hissed at her. "You were the one who read that bit about the possibility of bringing him back. You do want him back, don't you? You don't want him dead anymore? Dead, like the way his body is, lying there in the forest now, probably all cut up by all sorts of foul creatures? Because that's what he is, you know, dead. Should go back and take a picture of it and stick in the Wizarding Dictionary of the Twentieth Century under the word 'dead' because it's a perfect description --"  
  
"Shut up, Ron!" Hermione shouted hotly and a bunch of heads turned to look at her. "You're not helping!"  
  
"At least I'm doing something."  
  
And Hermione stormed out of the library to Gryffindor Tower.  
  
"It's just too much for her," said Ron quietly to Sirius who was sitting next to him.  
  
The library had cleared out and when Hagrid left leaving only Ron, Dumbledore and Sirius, Sirius transformed into a human.  
  
"Can't blame her," Sirius replied.  
  
"Yeah," said Ron even more quietly, in such a low voice that Sirius could barely hear him, "can't blame her... I don't know why I'm looking anymore," he said, his voice becoming slightly more audible. "I guess it's just because I still can't believe it."  
  
"Tell me about it," said Sirius, glancing sidelong at Ron.  
  
"I guess it's just habit, we've been at this for so damn long..."  
  
One afternoon after dinner, Hermione sat down in the library again but still refused to read. Ron tried to show her some books.  
  
"Leave me alone, Ron!" she said.  
  
"Hermione, if you don't find anything, no one else is going to. Dumbledore seems to think we're wasting our time."  
  
"I looked for one week straight! I've been having nightmares!" She started crying. "I can't take it anymore, I can't do it." She sat down on a chair and put her head into her arms but was still looking at Ron through the corner of her eye.  
  
"Nightmares?"  
  
"Yes, nightmares! Of Harry... I dreamed he would get back up and kill us or would send the dementors flying and we'd all be safe. Do you know what that's like, to see that night after night?" She was hysterical in tears. Ron took a book off a nearby shelf, looked at it, opened it to read part of a page and walked out. Hermione sat there the rest of the night.  
  
The next morning the library was full again but this time everyone was surrounding Ron. No one had woken Hermione up, Ron must've asked them to leave her alone; she was thankful. Her hands felt very wet (everyone needs a good cry). Hermione stood up, wiped away a few new tears and walked over to Ron. Everyone was reading a copy of the same book very intently. Dumbledore was seated at a table by himself where he made a fresh copy of the book if anyone asked.  
  
"Ron," she whispered, but he flailed his arms to make her shut up. She spotted another copy of the book, grabbed it and sat down at her chair. The book was titled, "The Undead: How To Take Out The 'Un'" but before she could open the book, Ron began shouting.  
  
"I FOUND IT!" he bellowed.  
  
Hermione had been the only one that gave up searching, it would appear. Ron must have been up late nights looking in the library. He was always so slow to find what he needed, Hermione thought miserably...  
  
"A dementor's kiss is not final," Ron went on. "In early 6000 B.C., the first dementors were discovered. The first victim was a young baby. The body never rose out of it's place of death to torment others. It was thought with this first victim that dementors simply killed their victims. Then not-forbidden rituals allowed it's practicers to revive the baby from the dead. Since then, however, out of millions of victims, there were only two more counts of such a phenomenon. One in early 3200 B.C. and one in --" Ron's voice stopped dead.  
  
"What? What is it?" asked Hermione.  
  
"-- July of some time in 1990 A.D.," and he stopped again.  
  
"Continue reading, Ron," said Dumbledore, his eyes sparkling behind his half-moon spectacles.  
  
"The ritual to perform the revivification of the baby has been lost in time. Old scriptures report it nearly destroyed an entire civilization. Thousands of lives were lost during the process and the target died (or more correctly, exploded) mere minutes later. The only record of said ritual is the Book of Memories. It is said this describes the process but has not ever been seen. Some say the book is just a rumor. Some say it never existed. Countless others say it was destroyed during the ritual."  
  
Ron looked up at Dumbledore.  
  
"What?" said Dumbledore, smiling innocently. "You cannot tell me that you didn't think the news of Harry would spread like wildfire. While the two of you were absorbed in reading, that book was released three days after Harry's death. I was sent a copy of it by the scribes themselves."  
  
"But..." Hermione said, waiting for Professor Dumbledore to finish her sentence.  
  
"...but there is no trace of the Book of Memories. I'm afraid --"  
  
"THEN YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE GOT OUR HOPES UP!" she bellowed.  
  
Hermione stormed out of the library and ran to Hagrid's hut for no reason in particular other than to just stare into the forest, hoping against hope that something would present itself. She took a seat on the grass and stared at the forest. Someone was going to come out and bother her, she thought to herself. And someone did.  
  
Something white, five feet in length and a foot high streaked across her view through the dense trees of the forest. Hermione thought nothing of it and went back on staring. She looked left. There it was again. This time it was five feet tall and a foot wide and it was going upwards. A ghostly voice echoed out of the forest but the words were indistinguishable. She stood up and walked closer to get a better look. Something cold came over her and a strong wind pushed her back. She turned around to sit back down... but Ron was there.  
  
"Did -- did you see that?" said Hermione, pointing where she saw the ghost.  
  
"See what?"  
  
"Oh. Nothing. Nevermind," Hermione said, trying to hide it.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore was hoping you wouldn't react like that."  
  
"Hoped? He --" but Ron but his hand on her mouth, grabbed her shoulder and walked her back to the Gryffindor common room.  
  
"Do you want to get the Book of Memories?"  
  
"Do I want to? Of course I do!"  
  
"Then listen. Sirius sent me an owl with a letter saying where it might be." Hermione lit up light a new candle.  
  
"Can I tell you something first?"  
  
"Sure, go ahead."  
  
"Just now when I asked you if you saw it too, obviously it wasn't nothing." Ron looked at her funny. "I saw something white. Something long and thin and white moving around in the forest. I heard some voices but couldn't make them out."  
  
"Well then, let's go back and take a look, shall we?"  
  
The two of them ran like bats out of class, out through the commons, down the marble staircase and bolted through the door and skidded to a halt in front of the forest. There it was again. The white, long figure was moving around in the forest.  
  
"That's it! There it is!" said Hermione pointing at it as it repeatedly vanished and reappeared.  
  
"There it is, but what is it?" The figure zoomed close to them and shot back into the forest very quickly. "H-Harry?"  
  
Ron walked up to stand on the very edge of the forest. Something forced him back. He walked back to where he was standing. The white figure stood in front of him but was faceless and expressionless. It seemed ethereal as it stood in front of Ron. It's arms stuck straight out. It was wearing a cloak and the sleeves waved like flags. It looked Ron straight in the eye, he stood unable to move.  
  
And then he passed out.  
  
The ghost disappeared.  
  
Ron's mouth moved before his eyes opened. "Harry. It is Harry. But why --"  
  
"Why did he prevent Ron from entering the forest?" It was Dumbledore. Ron got gingerly to his feet and looked at him. "Yes, I saw the ghost just this morning. It, too, stared me in the eye and I passed out. For what reason, I can only guess. Harry is trying to prevent us from going inside."  
  
"Professor Dumbledore, the Book of Mem-" started Hermione.  
  
"-- And I also know about the letter from Sirius. It would be very unwise to try such an old and dangerous ritual... which is why I will be taking extra precautions." The two of them smiled brightly hardly able to contain their glee. "The first order of business is to find the book... and I think we are going to get some help with that."  
  
Hermione and Ron jumped as something cold passed over them. The ghost was standing behind them facing Dumbledore. It flew straight into Ron and Hermione and they fell to the ground in a cold sweat.  
  
They woke up a minute later to find themselves somewhere pitch black. Their wands had been returned to them.  
  
"Lumos," said Ron and the tip of his wand emitted a bit of light.  
  
The situation, however, couldn't have been worse. They might as well have been killed with Harry. Hundreds of dementors stood around them but did not move. There was a single chest in the middle of the cave they stood in. Dark, damp and smelling like rotted flesh, the obvious stood out. As soon as they opened the chest, the dementors would swarm.  
  
"Ron, did you ever find out that anti-dementor charm Lupin taught Harry?" Hermione asked, her voice trembling.  
  
"No. You?" They stood back to back looking up at all of them.  
  
"I got a better question." Ron gulped. "How the bloody hell do we get out of here?"  
  
It looked very hopeless. Neither of them could Apparate, but as long as they didn't open the chest, they were safe.  
  
"You didn't think I'd leave you for dead, did you?" something spoke to them.  
  
"Harry!" said Ron and Hermione happily in unison.  
  
"Open the chest, grab what's inside and close your eyes."  
  
Hermione opened it and she read the cover of what was inside. Inside it was a book. The book.  
  
The Book of Memories. 


	6. A Friendship Stronger than Friendship

Chapter 6: A FRIENDSHIP STRONGER THAN FRIENDSHIP  
  
Ron closed his eyes first then Hermione followed suit. They could hear the dementors starting to move but it wasn't long before a strong wind whisked them back where they stood minutes earlier. They fell on the ground with a loud thud. Professor Dumbledore rushed over to them.  
  
"The book! You have the Book of Memories!" he said.  
  
"Yes but now what do we do with it? Isn't the ritual supposed to be deadly?" said Ron.  
  
Dumbledore took the book from Hermione, turned to the very first and began reading aloud. It was as if all this book contained was the old ritual to revive a dementor victim.  
  
"A Friendship Stronger Than Friendship, the ancient wizards called it. Revival of a dementor victim who's soul did not become part of the dementor is evil business. The victim's soul must first be located. The body must be recovered and friends of the victim must be willing to make sacrifices. This ritual is called 'Vestigia Nulla Retrorsum.' It is named as such because the victim may return, but others may die in his or her wake."  
  
"I do not like the sound of that," said Ron, glancing up nervously at Dumbledore.  
  
"I don't think anyone does but we all want Harry back, don't we?" grinned Dumbledore.  
  
Ron didn't really understand it. Apparently Dumbledore had a few tricks up his sleeve. Dumbledore continued reading.  
  
"Here are the required pieces to reviving past memories:  
  
1) The body of the victim  
2) The soul of the victim  
3) The victim's parents  
4) Five friends  
5) And a will for sacrifice."  
  
"Well that's just bloody great," Ron blurted out. "Parents? Where the hell are we gonna find Harry's parents?" Ron didn't see Mr. and Mrs. Dursley come outside. Hermione poked him in the ribs and he looked at them. "THEM?! OH GREAT, WE MIGHT AS WELL KISS HARRY GOOD-BYE!" he bellowed.  
  
"We never --" Aunt Petunia tried to say but --  
  
"Mrs. Dursley crying with Harry involved? Heavens me, it must be a very warm day at the north and south pole," said Hermione scathingly.  
  
"Do you want to try this or not?" barked Uncle Vernon.  
  
"Ron, Hermione, you two find Harry and his body. I will be thinking of ways to prevent more disaster during the ritual," said Dumbledore.  
  
Ron and Hermione set off into the forest. A cold chill swept over them when they first entered. They knew when the chill went away they were going in the wrong direction. It would be a miracle to find Harry's body in one piece, they thought, because any beast would want to have it's final moment. The cold became stronger and stronger until they came upon a small clearing in the forest. The cold chill left them. It was identical to the day they left it.  
  
The troll's blood was still covering every inch of the forest. Flashes of the dreaded day pierced their vision like nails. It was all too unreal, nothing had changed. Harry's lifeless body was still in the same position as they remembered it. His robes, hair and any skin exposed was still colored like blood and there was not a scratch on him, or at least any new scratches, anyway...  
  
"We better float him back," said Hermione. "Just make sure we don't run into anyth-"  
  
"Back again, I see," said a voice, that same voice. It, too, came back. Hermione stood frozen in place. The two of them brandished their wands. Ron stood straight and proud.  
  
"WHERE ARE YOU! I'M NOT AFRAID, COME GET ME!" he shouted back, spinning in all directions as he spoke. The cold chill swept over them again. The same black figure dashed out in front of him. Hermione was able to keep a firm grip on her wand this time. The figure tried again on Ron but he, too, was able to keep hold.  
  
"Stronger and prepared I see!" said the voice. "But what are you going to do without someone to die for you?"  
  
"Someone to die for us?" Hermione said in a very, very low whisper.  
  
"What is it?" Ron replied quietly.  
  
"Harry's mom... sh-she sacrificed herself for Harry..." said Hermione slowly.  
  
"Yeah, so?"  
  
"Do you trust me?"  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Shhh! Do you trust me!"  
  
"Yes, of course I do." Ron had no idea what Hermione was up to but she obviously had a plan.  
  
"Come get us!" she cried out. "You better kill us while you have the chance!"  
  
"Oh, don't worry," said the voice letting out it's unmistakable laugh.  
  
Hermione dashed over to Harry, pulling Ron with her. They knew the black figure was behind them because the shadow loomed overhead. She grabbed Harry's body by the wrist as the figure crept up behind them. Green light soared just over Hermione as she ducked.  
  
"Harry, come on! What are you waiting for!" she hissed at him.  
  
The cold chill became almost unbearable. Something grabbed Hermione by the neck and lifted her up. Her grip on Harry was released as she was pulled higher and higher.  
  
Suddenly, it dropped her as suddenly as it picked her up. The cold chill became a mere light breeze. Hermione turned around -- the figure was gone.  
  
"Mobilicorpus," she said and with a flick of the wand, Harry's body flew just behind her.  
  
They started to walk back following the cold chill. After just a few steps, the white figure appeared directly in front of them. It was just white, pure white, with no features. It looked as if someone floated bed sheets after painting them perfect white. It did not advance on them and did not look like a threat. In fact, it turned and changed direction as Ron and Hermione walked forward. The ghostly figure of Harry was leading them out of the forest.  
  
They stepped out of the forest to find just Professor Dumbledore waiting for them. He looked at Harry's body, then at the white figure and jumped.  
  
"It-it's true. I would not believe it unless I had seen it with my own eyes," he said. The ghost of Harry flew through the castle walls.  
  
"We better get inside," said Ron. "Look, it's starting to thunder."  
  
"Oh perfect," said Hermione. "We go to start an ancient deadly ritual and just like in books and movies, a thunder storm starts." The three of them walked back inside, the body of Harry not far behind.  
  
Everyone instinctively walked right into the Great Hall. The tables were propped up on the sides except for one altar right in the middle. Hermione placed Harry's body on it. Everyone gasped when they saw the blood. Most had forgotten what happened that dreadful day. Vernon, Petunia, Dudley, Sirius, Snape, McGonagall, Trelawney, Binns... everyone was in the room waiting to get started.  
  
"I still don't see how this is going to work when we don't have Harry's real parents," said Hermione grudgingly.  
  
"There was a small excerpt in the back that said if real parents are not around, close relatives will do," said Dumbledore with a smile. Hermione grunted. "Now." He opened the book and skimmed it looking for the instructions. "I do not know what sort of sacrifice will be made," he started, "but I'm sure all of us wish we never had to do this.  
  
"Sirius, would you please stand at the foot of the altar. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, would you please stand on either side." Dumbledore moved to stand at the head of the altar. "Hermione, Ron and, Minerva please stand somewhere around him."  
  
Everyone took their place. The familiar cold chill Hermione and Ron knew had now filled the room. Dumbledore began to chant from the book.  
  
The chill turned off. The stillness in the air turned to a light breeze. The neutral air became slightly warmer. Thunder outside became loud and the flashes of light from lightning bolts lit up the bewitched sky as if it were day. The slight warmth turned hotter. The light breeze became a quick wind. Voices began to speak to them but neither words nor the speaker could be made out. Dumbledore's voice had to grow over the howling wind. The heat turned very hot. The quick breeze became a gust of torrential wind and everyone struggled to stay standing. The ghost of Harry was perfectly still just above his body. There was still no expression on his face and the figure was still pure white without imperfection.  
  
Dumbledore shouted the last few words of the incantation when all the faces lit up in excitement. The voices became chaotic.  
  
Hermione made a scared gasp when the ghost of Harry was pulled down into the body but still, he lay limp.  
  
The heat died out, the winds stopped and the room became eerily calm. The chaotic voices were still whispering but still nothing about them could be made out. Everyone stood up to catch a glimpse of what was happening.   
  
Harry's dead eyes opened and rays of heavenly light beamed out of them. He floated up several feet above the altar and a shockwave thrusted outwards from it, sending everyone careening against a wall. Harry lay still and unconscious as everyone got back to their feet taking two or three steps closer to see. Sparkles of gold filled the surrounding area around the altar and the chaotic voices turned heavenly. His eyes closed, stopping the light. The thunder storm outside stopped, the wind stopped and nothing mattered to anyone except the floating body in the middle of the room.  
  
The body floated back down to the altar. The voices stopped. The golden sparkles dissolved into the air. Harry's eyes opened once more. He squinted, rubbed his eyes, fixed his glasses and sat up.  
  
Hermione sprinted as her legs had never carried her before towards Harry as he stepped down. No one had ever held him tighter. He turned red as apples and everyone else smiled. He thought it best to put his arms round Hermione, too, and put his head on her shoulder. Tears were seen in Aunt Petunia's eyes.  
  
"Never do that again, never!" exclaimed Hermione.  
  
Words completely failed Harry; if he said the wrong thing she just might strangle him. Everyone except Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione and Harry walked out muttering something about "did you think we would have it any other way?" The thunder storm outside began to pick up again as it was before the ritual.  
  
Hermione was still crying on Harry and said through her tears, "I don't get it. Wasn't something bad supposed to happen?" Harry looked up at Dumbledore.  
  
"Ah, but you see, after some further looking it would appear the first attempt at this ritual was done with the wrong soul," he said smiling. He looked up at Harry and continued, "It took a ritual over seven thousand years old to bring you back. It was very brave of you three to go after Ron's parents. Nothing but pure luck ensured you would all come out of it alive."  
  
Hermione giggled, let go of Harry and looked up at him.  
  
"You know I had nightmares over you! I cried myself to sleep so many times," she said.  
  
The thought was a little too much and she went right back to holding him. Suddenly Harry's body went limp. Hermione let go and he fell to the floor. There was no sound except for the gasp from Hermione which pierced the still air. She cried hysterically and dropped to her knees.  
  
"We should bring him to the hospital wing," said Dumbledore quickly, looking at Ron and Hermione. "It is very likely he's just as tired as the rest of us."  
  
Dumbledore carried Harry to the hospital wing where Madam Pomfrey had been waiting. It looked like she expected to see him passed out. It's not like she didn't have to take care of him in this condition before...  
  
"He'll be okay, won't he?" Ron said looking with hopeful eyes up at Dumbledore.  
  
"We'll see in the morning. Come now, off to bed."  
  
"Let them stay here for the night," suggested Madam Pomfrey. Ron and Hermione looked up at Dumbledore with puppy eyes.  
  
"All right then, they can stay."  
  
A bolt of lightning cracked just outside the castle walls to light up the night sky. It had been a very emotional evening. 


	7. Love the Moment

Chapter 7: LOVE THE MOMENT  
  
The very next morning, Harry's eyes were as heavy as fully grown dragons. He squinted and one eye stayed open. Draco Malfoy was standing over him. The one eye Harry had open rolled around at the sight.  
  
"Eat poison, Malfoy."  
  
Malfoy snickered. This was not the morning to be seeing him. Harry tried to thrust him out of the door but nothing happened. He opened his other eye and looked at a table next to him where his wand was. He picked it up, pointed it at Malfoy and muttered something. That worked, and it sent Malfoy clean down the hall. Ron and Hermione both woke up.  
  
"What's he doing here?" asked Ron. Harry rubbed his eyes and sat up.  
  
"Who knows. What's more important is why can't I use that strong levitation spell anymore."  
  
"You what?" said Ron and Hermione together.  
  
"I don't know," he replied. "Wonder if the foresight still works." Harry closed his eyes and put his thoughts into it concentrating on Malfoy. Nothing. His vision didn't blacken and he felt nothing. He looked up with confusion at Ron. "Nothing?"  
  
"Maybe I can offer some insight," said Professor McGonagall as she came in. She held a book in her hand with her index finger held between two pages she must have been reading.  
  
"Good morning," said Hermione.  
  
"Glad to see you're all right, Harry. We weren't all just reading books on raising the dead, you know," she said sternly to Hermione who blushed. That's all that was on her mind for one week straight. "It would appear Professor Dumbledore had told you something quite backwards. Remember when he told you, Harry, that you could not attempt foresight on him since he had the ability, too?" She sat on the end of Harry's bed, opened the book and started to read. She muttered some of the words before she began, "Ah, here." She looked at Harry from the top of her square glasses while still facing the book, gave him her cold eyes, and read.  
  
"'Foresight is a seven thousand year old phenomenon. Originating from the dementors, which evolved into their ability to steal souls, there also evolved a good and bad side. The bad side can only successfully catch foresight into those who also possessed the bad, however strong or weak it was, or a good mind, too weak to force it out.  
  
"Good foresight cannot penetrate the bad mind at all unless the bad mind is extremely adept. In either case, if the mind is sufficiently strong, targets of such strong foresight could not feel a presence. In the case of a weak mind, or not able to properly control foresight, one with a strong, bad mind can manipulate the weak one. In all cases, a bad mind cannot penetrate another mind unless it possesses foresight of some type. Fortunately, it has been noted that foresight, good or bad, cannot penetrate a well trained good mind. Rumors contrary to the fact have popped up but were consistently put to rest after some further research.'" She paused expecting Harry to say something but he sat waiting impatiently for her to continue.  
  
She didn't have anything else to read, though. She closed the book and said, "Does that clear up a few things for you, Harry?"  
  
It took Harry a few seconds to digest it all, but he was satisfied.  
  
"I was right," he said. "That leaves question though. Is Vold- er, You-Know-Who invading my mind? If =- if he is, that means I have a bad mind... But, does that mean, since it looks like I can't use it any longer, that the visions will stop?"  
  
"Yes," she said definitvely. Harry beamed a smile at Ron and Hermione. McGonagall sighed. "No one knows yet how he can penetrate your mind. No doubt we will be looking for the answer. Unfortunately, there is still Ron's parents that must be found." Ron gave Harry a depressing look. Professor McGonagall turned to Harry. "Your extra magic most likely disappeared into that dementor." And then she smiled which confused everyone. "You can probably find it."  
  
"Find it!? Why would we want to find it?!" squealed Harry.  
  
"When a dementor isn't successful, it turns white." She sighed again. "Of course, it's probably even more angry. If you found it, it would most likely be alone but you could summon a Patronus and the dementor would return what it stole."  
  
"I'm not facing another dementor as long as I live," snapped Harry. No way was he going to give a dementor a remote chance of killing him again. "Not until I can have a Patronus walk next to me wherever I go."  
  
"Ah, but you can do that," said McGonagall. Harry's mouth almost fell to the floor. "Simply call a Patronus when you think dementors are around. It won't leave if it senses them, too." Why hadn't he ever thought of that?  
  
"It's settled, then, right?" said Ron. They had all completely forgotten about his missing parents. Harry felt guilty. All this time they worried about bringing him back to life and Ron's parents took back seat. "We're going?" Ron looked worried.  
  
"Yeah, we're going," Harry said, looking worried too. "After this is over I want some more of that sleeping potion. Put me out for a month."  
  
Professor McGonagall smiled.  
  
"We tried that once, took another month to wake the person up."  
  
"If we're going to go, we better go now," said Harry. They checked to make sure they all had their wands and started to walk out when Madam Pomfrey walked in.  
  
"No you don't. You're not going anywhere for a day. You were dead for more than two weeks, remember?" Harry's face turned red. "I'm sure you still feel strange. Another good night's sleep, Harry, and you'll feel a lot more like going after stuff." Indeed, it was strange to look down and see feet. He could no longer float and there weren't any freaky monsters wandering around him anymore. Ron looked more worried.  
  
"But --"  
  
"They're fine... just fine. Professor Dumbledore knows exactly where they are. He dare not go after them though because he belives You-Know-Who has some more tricks up his sleeve. Dumbledore has confidence that something about you, Harry, will stump him again."  
  
So they would spend another night in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey brought them lunch; Harry had slept through breakfast.  
  
"What do you think Malfoy wanted?" asked Hermione.  
  
"I wish I knew, I'd like to make him explode," said Harry, scowling at the thought.  
  
"I wish you would, Potter, then I wouldn't have to look at you anymore." Malfoy walked in happily at the thought of no more Harry. He stood in the doorway. "It was pleasant with you gone. Would you please get yourself killed again? Oh and this time don't forget to stay dead."  
  
"That's right Malfoy, just piss him off more and he'll hit you with some new magic," said Ron hotly.  
  
Harry stood up and ran over to Malfoy but Ron and Hermione stopped him. Harry's voice was slow and icy.  
  
"I'd like to see you kill a thirty foot troll and a ten foot spider then get surrounded by dementors and live to tell about it," he said, eyeing Malfoy dangerously.  
  
"You didn't live. You died, remember?"  
  
With one wrench of his arm, Harry broke himself free and lunged at Malfoy. They slid several feet along the stone floor before coming to a stop. Harry raised his hand to punch... when his fist started to grow about twice the size of normal. Without noticing it, he hit Malfoy squarely in the jaw and heard a crack. Draco would have cried out in pain, but he saw Harry's still-enlarged fist.  
  
Slowly, it shrunk to normal size right before their eyes. Malfoy got up and ran away. There was a big bulge forming where Harry hit him but he just wanted out. Hermione and Ron stood agasp. Harry was still kneeling down, his fist recoiled behind his head, now looking ready to punch the floor. The three of them were at a loss for words.  
  
"That, my friends, is more dark magic beginning to show itself." Dumbledore must have seen Malfoy running away. He had Sirius with him, who looked slightly concerned. "We don't know what this is all about, Harry, but you and I know it cannot continue." Dumbledore kneeled next to Harry, pulled his arm up and walked him back to his bed in the hospital wing. "Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, please come with me. I'm going to see what I can find in the library. Harry, you stay here for the night."  
  
And with a wave of the wand, Dumbledore put Harry to sleep.  
  
He had no nightmares that night, but two dreams stuck out like sore thumbs. In one, he punched Malfoy again. Instead of his fist stopping though, Malfoy went straight through the ground. That was the dream Harry liked. The other dream disturbed him. He didn't know what to make of it.   
  
The Durselys were in a pit deep underground. Harry happened to walk by and hear them all screaming. He floated down to see what was in there, it was a single white dementor advancing on them. He called upon a Patronus and the dementor ran away, dropping a black box laden with gold trimmings. It sparkled from the sunlight above. When Harry tried to open the box, the dream vanished and Harry woke up in a cold sweat, not knowing why. The dream wasn't scary, just strange. What was in that box?  
  
Morning arrived and Harry had completely forgotten about the dream. Ron and Hermione woke him up so he could get breakfast with them. Into the Great Hall they walked. There was only one long table set up. School not being in session, there wasn't much point in setting up all four grand tables with plates. The three of them sat down. Harry had scrambled eggs, Hermione was eating toast and Ron had waffles.  
  
"Had a good sleep, Harry?" asked Hermione. Harry took a sip of his orange juice.  
  
"Very nice. Not one nightmare," he said giggling.  
  
A little bit of juice dripped on his robes. Nobody thought it out of the ordinary to see Harry in his new color of red but, pumpkin juice? Everyone took notice! Ron waved his wand. A napkin shot out of it and he gave it to Harry.  
  
"I'm still worried about mum and dad..." Ron said. Harry knew how he felt.  
  
"At least you won't end up like me," Harry reminded him. "Fourteen and living with people you hate more than Draco Malfoy. Why do you think I keep coming back?" Harry made himself angry and took a bigger forkful of food than he could stick in his mouth at once. He pushed it in at the corners with his fingers. Having not eaten a full three meals in almost three weeks, he didn't mind the mess.  
  
"You're welcome to stay with us, you know," said Ron.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore doesn't want me to go just yet. I wish I knew why!"  
  
No sooner had he finished speaking when a new two slices of bread appeared in Hermione's now-empty plate. Every meal was an all you can eat buffet. As soon as you finished eating, the plate refilled itself. Harry finished up his and two more scrambled eggs made their way in front of him.  
  
"You eat like a pig, Harry," Hermione told him.  
  
"Haven't eaten right for almost three weeks, of course I'm hungry. Can't fight badguys on an empty stomach," he barked all the while stuffing his face with food. All three of them finished up their current servings and walked quietly to their respective bathrooms. They did their thing and met back in the Gryffindor commons.  
  
"I really should change," said Harry looking down and sniffing himself.  
  
"No arguement there," said Hermione smelling him too.  
  
"What did you do with yours, Hermione. Did the stain come out?"  
  
"I burned them."  
  
"Burned them?" asked Ron.  
  
"Burned them..." Hermione's eyes looked watery. She put her head down and walked towards the fire. "Go ahead, try to wash it, that's not coming out."  
  
Indeed, it wasn't.  
  
All manner of clothes-cleaning spells did not manage to even make the color go faint. Within minutes, the huge glass bowl Hermione summoned was full of suds and water.  
  
"I couldn't bare to keep them knowing what happened that day," said Hermione, sitting down and looking ready to cry again.  
  
"No, there she goes again. Do something!" Ron panicked at the thought of Hermione crying again. She put her head in her hands between her knees and started lightly sobbing. Harry walked in front of her and got on one knee.  
  
"Hermione, look at me." She started to cry.  
  
"Oh, someone save me," Ron groaned turning away.  
  
Harry pushed her hands up just high enough so she could see him out of the top of her eyes. She looked up on her own. Harry stood up and Hermione threw her arms around him nearly knocking both of them down. Harry hugged back.  
  
"Not again... cross my heart and hope to d... er," and he let out a cough. Hermione took a big sniff. She let go and sat down again.  
  
"You better shower. Your clothes smell awful and your skin is gonna stain soon, too. We don't want to have to call you Harry the Red," said Hermione giggling. How could everyone keep forgetting he was covered from head to toe in gross troll blood? The only answer Harry could come up with is that they were more worried about him than his appearance. It made him feel good that someone cared but he really wished he didn't have to have a constant reminder he recently died. The smell didn't bother his nose anymore, though, and he kinda got used to the color.  
  
He set off to the nearest bathroom with a shower in it but ran into Malfoy on the way.  
  
"Don't want me to break that jaw of yours fully off this time, do you?" said Harry threateningly. He took off his bloody cloak and threw at Malfoy's head. Malfoy struggled to get it off as if it were diseased and ran away. Harry continued walking and finally got to the shower stall. Finally, he thought to himself. He smells like dried blood and oiled, slimy flesh. Frankly, that's what he consisted of so the stench was no surprise.  
  
Harry tossed his cloak into one corner and piled the rest of his clothes on top of it. What a gross sight, he thought, as he turned the water on. The troll blood immediately started to look paler. Harry took his sweet time. His skin was like dirty leeches to the touch for three days straight and it felt good to finally get the stuff off. Water poured over him like a hot spring and it was the most refreshing feeling in months. It was a little more difficult to clean his hair, however and Harry decided to start there.  
  
His hair had grown while he was dead and the roots were black but the rest was red. He looked at the bottles of shampoo. One named "Extremely Strong Shampoo: Use Only In Emergencies" caught his eye.  
  
He picked it up and read the back: "Known to bleach hair white but cleans off anything imaginable. Only temporary! Give it about a half hour and the color comes back. Apply and let sit for ten minutes." There was a small clock embedded in the front of the bottle.  
  
White is better than red, he thought to himself as he massaged it in. The clock started as soon as he put it back down. He let it sit and his scalp started to tingle. Sure enough, drips of red began to fall off and when the clock chimed, the very last drip fell down the drain. He pulled some hair forward to look at it, and it was, unfortunately, white. Harry washed the rest of it out.  
  
One of the bars of soap had the words "All-Off" engraved in it. He grabbed it and before he could do anything, soap immediately started to crawl up his arm and cover his body all by itself. Harry put the bar back down and the soap immediately started to thicken. Within a few minutes, the spell died out and the soap turned into large bubbles. He wiped it off and the blood came with it just as easy as could possibly be.  
  
He glanced at the names of conditioners. "Mega-Soft" read one of the bottles. This one didn't have anything weird apparent about it. He opened the bottle, poured some in his hand and rubbed it in his hair. Like a thousand little fans, his untidy, soaked hair started to blow as if there was a strong wind pointed at it. The water in his hair flew everywhere but the magical cream didn't come out. After a minute, it subsided and Harry washed it out. His hair was as soft as puffs of clouds. He checked his hair once more... it was still white. With a sigh, he turned the water off, grabbed a towel and dried himself off.  
  
He scrubbed his glasses extra hard and finally just conjured new ones because the stain wasn't coming off. Something must have washed his clothes because they were perfectly clean when he went to look at them. Harry put a robe on, snatched his clothes and walked back to the Gryffindor commons, clean as a whistle.  
  
When he returned, Hermione's jaw nearly dropped.  
  
"Wow," she gasped, "they must have some strong stuff in the shower."  
  
"You have no idea. I just touched a bar of soap and it covered me by itself. The shampoo I used took dripped the stains out of my hair and the conditioner, well, see for yourself." He walked over to her and bent his head down for her to feel.  
  
"Wow, what did you use? I have to try that."  
  
"Mega-Soft. It feels really weird." Ron stepped over. "Oh, by the way, something cleaned my clothes for me," said Harry showing her them.  
  
"I forgot about that," Hermione said. "I don't think anyone knows what it is except the professors but it does a very good job!"  
  
"Probably a house-elf," snickered Ron. Hermione wasn't pleased. In their fourth year, Hermione started a house-elf welfare program. It didn't go over well with the elves either and she later abandoned it.  
  
"I'm gonna get changed, wait for me," Harry told then.  
  
Hermione and Ron took a seat. Harry walked up to his bed. He didn't have any other pairs of clothes with him. He didn't really expect to be spending time at Hogwarts so naturally the only choice was to put on the freshly cleaned ones. Hermione and Ron must have had time to go back and pack some extra. He changed -- the robe mysteriously disappearing when he put it down, presumably back to the bathroom -- and walked back out.  
  
Hermione and Ron stood up.  
  
"We better get going," Harry said gloomily. "Before we do, can I just ask Dumbledore something?"  
  
"If we can find him, sure," said Ron.  
  
As usual, Dumbledore found them first. He was standing just outside the Fat Lady.  
  
"I think I know just what's going on with you, Harry." Harry looked up at him eagerly. "When you first Apparated here with your relatives, the Avada Kedavra you attempted was real but Professor McGonagall didn't hear or see you attempt it. Voldemort fled after you finished it. It bounced off a wall right back at you and it's been effecting you ever since. Why it didn't kill you is another mystery I would rather not find the answer to. The dark magic is clearly a sign of something troubling you."  
  
Harry had walked back inside and sat down during this talk.  
  
"The visions are Voldemort's doing but I see why his bad mind is able to penetrate your good mind," Dumbledore went on. "There is no doubt your mind is good. The answer goes back to when his abilities were transferred to you that night."  
  
"But, what about my -- I mean... Malfoy --"  
  
"Relax. He has no part in this. I got him to confess with a Truth Potion that he simply wants to be around if anything bad happens to you. I sent a Howler to Mr. Malfoy right on home with Draco." Dumbledore said in a whisper, "By the screaming going on in their kitchen right now, I think they opened it." Harry couldn't help but smile. Dumbledore continued normally, "Chances are they don't care to hear from me but a normal copy of that letter went to the Ministry of Magic," he said with a grin to all three of them.  
  
"And my mum and dad?" said Ron quivering. Dumbledore looked worried. He thought for a moment before speaking.  
  
"I have not had contact with them since early this morning." Ron looked up and tried to speak but Dumbledore interrupted him. "But that does not mean the worst has happened. Many times foresight can fail if an adept mind is close by or the target is unconscious. I have had on and off contact since Harry -- and truthfully it has been more off than on."  
  
"We better get going now," said Hermione.  
  
Harry started to feel very good about the situation. Sure, they were going to face Voldemort again but Harry had confidence in Dumbledore's words. They started to walk. Before they took three steps... Harry's hands began to glitter as if his skin was made of gold. No one that was standing there would be looking anywhere else. 


	8. Skin of Gold

Chapter 8: SKIN OF GOLD  
  
"Harry, your hand!" gasped Hermione.  
  
"His entire body!" said Ron.  
  
Harry's entire body started glittering in the same manner. Harry looked more scared than any of them.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore," he said with a tremble looking frantically at his hands, "w-what is this?"  
  
"The Mark of Ancients," said Dumbledore in disbelief. His eyes brightened as if he just realized something. "Harry when that troll exploded did you notice anything?"  
  
"My hand... for about a second before I killed it..."  
  
"That's not dark magic you're experiencing, it's old and very powerful magic originating from ancestors of Godric Gryffindor." Harry's heart rushed with excitement, despite the fact that his skin was doing something very odd. It was true all along, he didn't have anything to fear from the Sorting Hat trying to place him in Slytherin...  
  
"The Sorting Hat... it --"  
  
"-- it saw Voldemort's leaky powers and wanted to be sure that you didn't want to be in Slytherin." A great weight broke off Harry's stomach. He took a deep breath of relief but when your skin glows, it still bothers you.  
  
"Ok so what is this?" Harry asked. He still frantically looked at every inch of his hands then rolled up his sleeves to look at his arms which were, of course, glittering too.  
  
"Come out in the hall with me." They all stepped outside and Dumbledore pointed at a far wall. "Put your hands together and concentrate on that wall."  
  
Harry copied Dumbledore's motion, closed his eyes and the wall appeared in his head. A surge of energy shot through him and before he could realize what happened, the ground shook violently. Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione fell down due to the earthquake but Harry stood perfectly still. He instinctively ducked as several cinderblocks cleanly missed his head. He opened his eyes. The wall exploded taking out the floor and ceiling with it. The great weight attached itself to his stomach again as he quickly separated his hands and looked back up at Dumbledore. He, surprisingly, was smiling. The glitter was as bright as ever.  
  
"That, my friends, is the power of the ancients. Now try to fix the wall." Harry closed his eyes again and put his hands together. The ground shook softly and he heard the cinderblocks moving very fast. He opened his eyes. They were rushing along the floor at the broken wall, ceiling and floor, piling themselves up to fix the wall. Broken pieces formed into whole blocks. Blocks from the floor snapped into place. Blocks from the ceiling shot upwards and wrenched themselves in. Before their very eyes, the hallway was back to normal. Harry, however, was stunned along with Hermione and Ron.  
  
Professor McGonagall must have seen the wall repair itself because she came running at them. She looked at Harry with eagle eyes then turned to Professor Dumbledore.  
  
"He -- he has it?" she said, goggling at Harry.  
  
"Yes," affirmed Dumbledore. "I would not have believed it unless I saw it for myself. Look, his skin is glittering just like they say."  
  
"All this time you were convinced it was dark magic, I -- I don't understand?" asked Professor McGonagall, clearly just as confused as Harry.  
  
"No writings ever explain how it starts," Dumbledore said matter-of-factly, "but it could not come at a better time."  
  
"I remember reading something about this," started Hermione. "If the person with it feels threatened or angry it starts to show up." She looked at Harry. "Which explains the strange magic you were able to use." She looked back at Dumbledore and McGonagall. "Not until the bearer becomes more confident in it does it come out in full force." She looked at Harry again and said, "That's why your skin is glowing. It strengthens all magic and also lets you use stronger magic much more easily. That's why you blew the troll up, that's why your levitation magic was a lot stronger than normal, that's why you could even attempt the death curse..."  
  
Dumbledore stood stunned at Hermione's research. Professor McGonagall was very pleased.  
  
"If school was in session, that would get Gryffindor sixty points alone," she said with a smile. Hermione's cheeks turned velvet, looking very embarassed.  
  
"Your foresight is probably back, you must have been calm the day it didn't work," Hermione added.  
  
"Good, now let's go before it runs out," said Harry as he started running. His legs carried him faster than he thought they could. Ron and Hermione couldn't keep up.  
  
"Slow down, Harry!" they called to him. He stopped and, feeling he might as well use it while he has it, with a wave of his hand, they were floating behind him.  
  
"I'm not Disapparating there just in case we appear in the middle of something I'd rather not see," he said. The two of them nodded, it was best if they walked on their own.  
  
Harry ran so fast his cloak floated almost perfectly horizontal. He was nearly as fast by foot as he was in the air with his Firebolt, a world-standard broom Sirius bought him in his third year. They arrived seconds later next to Hagrid's hut. Harry let Hermione and Ron onto the ground.  
  
"Wonder if this has anything to do with the stupid scar on my forehead," said a frustrated Harry.  
  
"I don't think so," replied Hermione. "It's passed down by parents. It may have something to do with why you survived."  
  
"How can it, I didn't know what Voldemort was doing. All my memories of that night are just him coming up to me, some green light and that's all I remember."  
  
Harry put his head down not noticing the glittering growing brighter. His stomach started to feel like someone grabbed hold of it and squeezed. Something was going to go wrong because tragedy never failed to fall down on him. No one dared speak until they arrived at the familiar red scene. Harry was again reminded of that fateful day. The screams of his parents were loud as ever.  
  
Every moving bush, every rustling tree... they were all Voldemort waiting to jump out and kill him. And the sunlight couldn't penetrate those trees, it was just as dark as usual. Harry could no longer bare the red scene. He clasped his hands together and closed his eyes. Without fully knowing what he was doing, heavenly voices filled the air and he heard Hermione and Ron gasping. Harry opened his eyes to see a brilliant light shining directly on top of him as he looked up.  
  
The blood from the troll slowly faded off of everything as the light and voices faded with it. He could hardly believe he had such strong magic. It was a full minute before any of them spoke.  
  
"Well here we are. Now we just wait for something to try and kill us again," Harry said depressingly. The familiar voice didn't hesitate.  
  
"Back for a third time, are we? They always say third time's a charm... or was it a curse?" it said howling with laughter. Harry kept his hands together waiting for something.  
  
"Where are they?" he demanded cooly.  
  
"Aww, Harry Potter is starting to see his full potential, I see? How about a test?"  
  
Ron and Hermione stepped shoulder to shoulder with Harry and he could feel them trembling. A white dementor came out from behind a tree directly in front of them. It shot towards Hermione but Harry closed his eyes. He knew the dementor had been shot off course and he sent flying into the air. He opened his eyes, grinned and looked up. The dementor became transparent and disappeared into thin air, a little bit of blood dripping to the ground where it was floating.  
  
"Excellent!" said the voice. "And you can control it too, magnificient! Let's see how good you are at it!"  
  
Grim looks shot across their faces. Hundreds of dementors appeared out of nowhere once more and were advancing on them.  
  
"I can't look!" said Ron with a faint voice.  
  
Harry's eyes closed as if instinctual. The familiar heavenly voices filled the air.  
  
"Ron! Look!" said Hermione poking Ron. The dementors stopped dead in their tracks and one by one disappeared as if a Patronus shooed them away.  
  
"WHAT ELSE DO YOU HAVE, HUH!?" bellowed Harry.  
  
Fear was no longer part of his vocabulary. His mind never worked clearer and his thoughts never came faster. The glitter turned into a glow and glowed it did, almost blindingly. Ron and Hermione could no longer look at it. The heavenly voices faded away with the last dementor.  
  
"I don't think you should have said that, Harry," said Ron looking all around. Clones of Voldemort stood around them in a circle. All at once, they aimed their wands at the three of them and all their mouths spoke at the same time.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!"  
  
The green light burst through the end of all of the wands at once but it was all in slow motion to Harry. His head swung around and a pearly transparent circle arced outwards directly in line with the array of green lights. Upon touching, the green light was thrusted into the opposite direction hitting it's source. All but once clone was left standing.  
  
"Harry, Harry, Harry... how long must we fight? You're only getting weaker and I'm getting stronger."  
  
Harry didn't want to believe him, but sure enough, Voldemort was right. The glitter was less bright than before. How could this be? Harry was definitely not feeling less and less threatened but the glow turned to a glitter and continued to fade. His worry grew bigger and bigger. The fist around his stomach became so tight he almost slumped over in pain and fell face down on the soft and inviting dead grass.  
  
"You're going to die for good this time, Harry, I'll make sure of that."  
  
Ron and Hermione didn't matter anymore. Without warning, the scar upon Harry's forehead screamed at him as loud as it could. Harry curled up in more pain from it then he ever remembered. The glitter became a white glow and vanished altogether. All Harry wanted was for Voldemort to end it. Pain, excruciating pain, pain that wasn't ending... The pain prevented him from controlling his voice and he couldn't even scream. He could still hear, though, and Voldemort was speaking.  
  
"Won't be needing you two," he said. Harry heard a bang so loud he could not hear what Voldemort was saying. Ron and Hermione were gone. The scar lightened it's pain slightly but it was still strong as ever. With every sound it throbbed unrelenting. "Still not giving up, are you?" Voldemort bent down over him. "What's the use. You're just going to die and will be forever known as the arrogant boy who thought he could kill his Dark Lord!"  
  
Voldemort laughed softly and it seemed to control the pain in the scar. It grew ever stronger and Harry's writhing grew with it.  
  
"Just do it and get it over with," said Harry in so low a voice Voldemort strained to hear.  
  
"And deprive myself the joy of this moment? Tsk, tsk... thirteen years I've been waiting to get rid of you..." Harry could barely speak. Every word throbbed his head in more pain.  
  
"I've heard that before," and at that word Voldemort grabbed Harry's head by the hair just high enough so he Voldemort could look him in the eye. Harry refused to make eye contact.  
  
"This will be the last thing you hear, boy. The cry of someone dying, yourself... dying." He dropped Harry's head and it fell in a small puddle of mud he avoided when he first fell. "I will have as much power as I had thirteen years ago and there's nothing the famous Harry Potter can do since he won't be with us any longer!"  
  
Voldemort laughed maniacally. The pain in Harry's scar was so great it started to tear at his very being. His hearing started to fade. Voldemort's voice was a mere soft muffled groan and it was pleasing because the sound no longer made his head throb. Something turned him to face upwards. Swirls of green and red filled his vision. The light from above turned gray and he was seeing double. Dark figures started to fill in from the corner of his eye. Something rose over him, sped back down and Harry felt a very sharp pain at his ankles. He felt something liquid flow where the pain was. It happened two more times, this time the pain was felt from his wrists and neck.  
  
The amount he could see started to shrink rapidly. One of the dark figures pulled on him but he was so numb he didn't know what part of himself. If the pain from his scar lasted any longer he would surely die from just that. Finally, his vision died and his hearing dead to the point where all he could hear were his own thoughts. All he wanted was to be with his parents. He could hear what sounded like a voice saying to him, "Don't give up!" He could feel a thousand fingers all over him and whatever they did to his body was a mystery. All the pain he felt came from his scar and at long last, his dream came true. His eyes were forced open and fixed on Voldemort's outstretched wand pointed at him.  
  
All of the the pain stopped.  
  
At some point, someone poked him and he woke up. It was morning and he found himself in the hospital wing.  
  
"Harry?" Hermione said, standing over him. "Wake up, sleepy head."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Dumbledore thought you would be awake by now, are you?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Good. Now come on, we're waiting for you in the Great Hall. Get changed and come!"  
  
She walked out and Harry strained to sit up. His glasses sat on a table next to him as well as a change of the usual Hogwarts robes. He got dressed, walked out the door, through the hallways and to the entrance of the Great Hall. It was packed with people and lots of talking. Did the next term start? Harry opened the doors and all the murmuring stopped. Every head focused on him as he spotted Hermione and Ron, taking a seat next to them.  
  
"Good morning!" said Ron.  
  
"Have a good sleep? You were out for three days," said Hermione giggling.  
  
"Three days? That's nothing," gasped Harry.  
  
"We found you face down, bleeding heavily. But shhh, I'll explain later, Dumbledore's talking to the first-years," said Ron.  
  
"We all know there are good wizards... and there are bad wizards." Dumbledore looked around and paused briefly. All eyes were on him. "There are who try... and those... who die." Harry tried to hide himself in his cloak. Sure, he lived, but did Mr. and Mrs. Weasley get out and what about Voldemort? "Some souls refuse to be contained. Trying to contain such souls is like trying to stop life from living... it cannot be done. There is one among us with such a soul." Dumbledore gazed around the room and he stopped at Harry who tried to ignore all the people standing up to do the same. He quickly put his hand inside his cloak when he noticed it starting to glitter. Harry's scar burned for a quick second, something wasn't right. "That one among us is none other than... Harry... Potter." The room exploded in applause. Harry peered over his shoulder to see Draco Malfoy in tears (they certainly weren't tears of joy) and grinned wildly at him.  
  
Dumbledore continued his speech. "Bravery and a steel set of nerves are the minimum requirements for acts of courage... Mixed with dedication, true friendship and an astounding will to survive... these ingredients show true heroism." Harry took another look across the teachers chair and what he saw surprised him. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were sitting next to Hagrid... staring and crying. The glitter on Harry's hands extended to his arms. Soon he wouldn't be able to hide it. He didn't forget what it was, it was just embarassing. Not every day do you start to sparkle in the sunlight. The scar burned again, this time slightly more painful and for a little longer. He tried not to flinch.  
  
"Harry you're glittering again," Ron whispered at him.  
  
It would appear that was the end of the speech and all eyes were fixed on him again. There was no hiding it, the glitter extended to his legs and head. He put his hands out on the table and it glittered as bright as ever looking as if his skin were made of gold. People at the Gryffindor table stared at his hands.  
  
"Stand up, Harry," said Dumbledore.  
  
He looked at Harry oddly.  
  
"That's not Dumbledore," Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione.  
  
"What? Of course it is," said Hermione back.  
  
"Come on, don't be afraid," said Dumbledore.  
  
Harry stared at him with eagle eyes and slowly rose up. Everyone in the room could see him and his glittering skin.  
  
"That's not Dumbledore," said Harry again to Hermione. The people next to him didn't believe it. Harry, again, contained the pain in his scar without flinching or moving.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Yes it is."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"That's not Albus Dumbledore," said Harry loud enough for anyone in the room to easily hear. "Where is he..." said Harry staring at Dumbledore. At this word the entire room turned attention to Dumbledore.  
  
"So you've seen through it?" said Dumbledore in a voice not his own. Slowly the picture of the body of Dumbledore folded and split to reveal Voldemort. Harry continued his gaze. "I don't know how, but I'm quite impressed."  
  
Everyone in the Great Hall took one simultaneous step backwards. Several screams broke the air.  
  
Harry spoke to Ron and Hermione. "My dream, the foresight. It works on him." Harry's magic grew ever stronger as the Mark of Ancients grew in power.  
  
"I thought I killed you last time, but it wasn't enough. Your blood feeds me and now I have it too."  
  
Voldemort closed his eyes and clapsed his hands together. Harry felt his insides turn to ice. Voldemort's skin started to glitter but it wasn't golden -- it was a black sparkle.  
  
"The only problem is, Harry, is that I know how to control it!" shouted Voldemort. His evil laugh pierced the ears of everyone filling the Great Hall. "The Mudblood lover Dumbledore though many things, one of them being that I could never take this school. How very wrong he was..."  
  
Everyone got up and tried to open the door but Voldemort locked it. Harry's piercing stare began to have an effect. Without losing eye contact, he put his hands together and began chanting but even he didn't know what he was saying. Voldemort started to walk off Dumbledore's chair but froze in place. A fierce wind picked up blowing plates, cups and anything loose all over. Several bright, long strands of white light started to whip around from the middle of Harry. He wasn't afraid, he was angry.  
  
Voldemort fell to the ground. No one knew who to stare at, Voldemort or Harry.  
  
"Kick his butt, Harry!" someone screamed. Voldemort couldn't stand up or move at all.  
  
"Where is Albus Dumbledore," Harry repeated coldly.  
  
"If you kill me... you'll never find out!" He was right, Harry failed to catch foresight on Dumbledore. How could Voldemort trick him if Harry couldn't even do it?  
  
"TELL ME!" Harry bellowed. He whispered very quietly to himself, "Crucio," with an outstretched finger. Voldemort could move again but they were squirms of pain. "WHERE... IS... DUMBLEDORE!" yelled Harry again with his finger still stretched out. Harry liked this.  
  
"Make him suffer, Harry!" someone yelled out. He withdrew his finger and asked once more, "Where is Dumbledore?" It looked like Voldemort was still feeling the Cruciatus Curse but he slowly got to his feet.  
  
"Hogsmeade... you'll be lucky to find him alive..."  
  
"Let's just make sure you don't do that again." Harry closed his eyes and put his hands together. A great ripping sound came from Voldemort's direction and a quick cry of pain. Hermione gasped. Something warm and wet shot at Harry very forcefully directly at his heart splashing all over.  
  
"Ugh! Not again..." said Hermione. When it stopped, Harry opened his eyes.  
  
"Ugh! Not again..." he said.  
  
"I just said that." Harry looked at Voldemort. A big gash was closing itself near his heart. Harry had used a spell to remove his blood from Voldemort. "I think you're supposed to do it to yourself, too, so it has a place to enter." She looked at herself. Her, Ron, Harry and a few others were dripping. "You idiot, now look at us." They were covered, head to toe, in blood yet again. Voldemort fell limp, but still breathing.  
  
Hermione gave Harry an uncomfortable glare for a quick second. "Look on the bright side. Now you have a little bit of me everywhere you go," said Harry. Hermione sighed. They both looked at Voldemort and the black glitter shot off him, vanishing into the air.  
  
"Dumbledore!" said Ron, Hermione and Harry in harmony. Instantly, Harry Disapparated them to Dumbledore and back into the Great Hall. Everyone crowded around the limp, motionless body. They stood agasp at what could only be described as a dead body.  
  
Voldemort disappeared.  
  
"Oh no, where'd he go?" someone said.  
  
"I sent him away but I don't know where. Trust me, it's far," Harry called back. Madam Pomfrey came dashing over.  
  
"Oh my goodness," she said with one long stare at Dumbledore. "Quickly, come!"  
  
Harry floated Dumbledore's body behind him. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Madam Pomfrey rushed to the hospital wing. They had no time to think, Dumbledore could very well be dead. Harry set Dumbledore on a bed.  
  
"I don't know what's happened to him but it would appear he'll be alright," said Madam Pomfrey. "Look, the Mark of Ancients is seeping through him." Harry stood next to him with a hand on Dumbledore. The glitter was slowly covering every inch of his body. The pale skin began to liven and he started to breathe. His eyes opened and the glitter crawled back onto Harry. Dumbledore sat up but before he could say a word, Harry interrupted him.  
  
"I've had enough excitement for one day. I need something to eat," he said, looking rather exhausted. He walked out and back to the Great Hall. Ron and Hermione rushed after him, Harry's skin still glittering.  
  
They arrived back at the Great Hall and the doors flew open by themselves for Harry to just walk past. He sat back down. Dumbledore, the real Dumbledore (Harry was dead sure of it), sat down in his chair. The glitter flew off from Harry's skin and dissolved into the air. He felt a sharp pain in his scar. Something forced him out of his chair, up, up into the air slamming him against the wall behind him, in front then behind again. The spots where he hit left large cracks in the wall and the force shattered windows. Before Dumbledore could speak, before he opened his mouth, Harry was face down on the floor crumpled up, sweating, hyperventilating... out cold. 


	9. Road to Sanctity

Chapter 9: ROAD TO SANCTITY  
  
It must have been years before he arrived at what could only be Heaven. This must be what it's like to truly die. Harry's mind was at ease as he lie there, eyes closed. The memories of what happened years earlier were still fresh in his head but they didn't bother him. He could see something white pointed at him through the lid of his eyes. It looked almost surreal as it became brighter and brighter, too bright for living eyes to see. He stared at it and felt the worries wash over him like the water from his first shower after his first death. Harry felt like he was floating on clouds. There was total weightlessness. This must definitely be Heaven and his parents were not far away. Something soft and cold pressed against his forehead. He began to hear heavenly voices. They were faint, but he could hear them.  
  
The white light faded away and down he fell. He hit something as hard as a rock and the white light became blackness. The heavenly voices sounded scared and the soft and cold object was taken away. Something red was closing in. Something dark and very red. A hot pain pierced his chest. Then it hit his back. He couldn't be going to... Visions of being with his parents faded as quickly as the carelessness of being in Heaven. He dreamed of spending an eternity with evil witches and wizards. Something hard pressed flatly against his entire body. The heat slowly grew as the red grew brighter. The voices turned chaotic as one word shouted loudly in his ear. This word he could make out.  
  
"HARRY!" Like waking from a long dream, the feeling of Heaven and Hell left him abruptly. His chest grew heavy and it began to rise up and down on it's own. Something heavy fell on him. It lifted as something else long and thin wrapped around his neck. His hearing started to work again. There were so many voices he couldn't make out most of them but there were random muffled yells which he could.  
  
"Awake? Is he ok?"  
  
"How long?"  
  
"What happened!"  
  
"No!" A drop of water fell on his cheek.  
  
"Oh, Harry!"  
  
"Let go, you're hurting him."  
  
The pressure around his neck was gone.  
  
"Please, please, please!"  
  
The voices went on for a long time.  
  
"Tell me he'll make it!"  
  
"When's he going to come to?"  
  
"I've been praying..."  
  
His head felt very sore and his eyes wouldn't open.  
  
"It's been a month since that awful day!"  
  
"Look, he's moving his head!"  
  
Harry's head twitched. His neck was very stiff.  
  
"Looks like he's going to be just fine."  
  
He could hear something banging very rapidly on the floor, it sounded like someone was very happy.  
  
"I was so worried!"  
  
His hearing became clearer and he heard more talking.  
  
"The poor boy..."  
  
One of the voices came very close to him.  
  
"Harry, please! Please look at me!"  
  
He wanted to open his eyes but they wouldn't obey. The voice continued to speak.  
  
"Look at me!"  
  
"He moved again!"  
  
He rolled his head to the other side and back trying to loosen his neck. Feeling started to come back to the rest of his body. He felt his arms and legs, all of which were equally hard to move.  
  
"He's moving! He's moving!"  
  
"Look, his arms and legs!"  
  
His legs were perfectly flat against each other. He moved them out an inch and stopped. His arms lay at his sides and he arched his elbows slightly. Harry heard cheering but wished it would stop because it made his head hurt.  
  
"Oh, I've been waiting for this!"  
  
Harry continued to move his arms, legs and neck to try and get the stiffness out but it was all a feeble attempt... the range of movement was very, very small. Someone squealed with delight. He felt like a zoo animal locked up in a cage for everyone to point and look at.  
  
"If he's awake he probably has a headache. Please, everyone outside except the five of you."  
  
His eyes started to inch open. Someone was standing over him.  
  
"Harry!"  
  
His eyes opened all the way but he had no idea who the girl was standing on top of him.  
  
"Harry, it's me," she said again.  
  
He looked up and down her face but still didn't recognize her.  
  
"Me, Harry, Hermione!"  
  
The name didn't ring a bell. An old man began to speak.  
  
"Give it time. He'll be just fine. He's lucky to have survived."  
  
The girl bent over, kissed him on the cheek and put her arms around his neck for a few seconds. He could no longer bare being stared at like an animal in a zoo and gathered strength to speak.  
  
"Let me sleep," said Harry in a very faint voice. All twelve eyes turned to look at him and he looked back at them. With all his strength, he turned himself over on his stomach. His entire body was sore. "Please."  
  
"Come on, let's leave him," said the girl.  
  
Harry's heavy eyes fell under their own weight and he was back in a state of carelessness.  
  
Harry dreamed for a long time. He dreamed about past events that he thought might have happened to him. He remembered he had two parents and they died to some green light. Somehow he got a scar and was dropped off at his aunt an uncle's house. He remembered dearly despising their treatment of him. Dreams came by of his life as he was tortured by his cousin Dudley and his great surprise to find out he was a wizard on his eleventh birthday. Occasionally he would wake up from the dreams and some woman brought him a strange cup to drink from and but he would just go back to sleep. None of it made any sense.  
  
Finally, Harry's thoughts started to collect. He had a dream about his aunt and uncle. They were down in a pit and Harry happened to walk by to hear their screaming. He floated down and saw something white threatening them. He said without thinking, "Expecto Patronus!" and something pearly white scared the figure away. The figure dropped a black box laden with gold trimmings which sparkled in the sunlight above him. He walked over to the box and opened it. Words flew out of the box and into him. He stood there. It didn't look like they would ever stop coming but eventually it did and he woke up in a cold sweat breathing heavily.  
  
Harry's memory fully returned. It was morning and Professor Dumbledore was sitting next to him.  
  
"I was wondering when you'd wake up." Harry tried to sit up but his muscles wouldn't let him. "Easy, Harry. Lay down. There's an awful lot to tell you."  
  
"I only have one question, Professor." Harry picked his head up, still laying on his back.  
  
"And that is?"  
  
"What happened?" He let his head drop, closed his eyes and gave a weak smile waiting for the long explanation. Dumbledore took a deep breath.  
  
"I'm afraid I told you somewhat of a lie. Hermione found out some things but it would appear she didn't get a chance to tell you." Harry opened his eyes and put all his attention on Dumbledore. "That glitter, that you already know is the Mark of Ancients. They were an unbelievably strong group of wizards noted by their glittering skin. Theirs, of course, always glittered. Yours only glitters when you feel threatened. No one knows how to control it, such knowledge was lost in time. When it quickly fades, it is not disappearing, it has peaked in strength and saves the wizard from mortality. In short, without it, Voldemort would have killed you the first time." Harry gulped. "It must have been with you all along. You should have told someone."  
  
"It was. I felt it when I first Disapparated but I thought it was too strange to tell anyone."  
  
"Understandable. It's been known to disappear on it's own and never come back. If suddenly you find yourself without it, well, let's hope that situation never arises." As if by instict, Harry glittered as bright as ever and abruptly vanished leaving a white glow on his skin. Dumbledore stumbled for words. "That, Harry, is the Mark at it's absolute peak. That white glow means you're able to control it," and he grinned broadly. Harry turned the white glow back into sparkle, to nothing, to sparkle then back to white glow. Dumbledore looked very pleased. "Ancient magic is very powerful, but also very deadly if not controlled carefully." He stood up and walked toward the door. "Please, Harry, use it carefully. Now come, the first-years are waiting to get a look at you!"  
  
"But, I thought --"  
  
"What you thought you saw was merely an illusion." Dumbledore walked back over to Harry. "From the moment you thought Hermione told you to come into the Great Hall to the moment you were knocked out by Voldemort, it was all in your head. I happened to walk by this room and hear you talking. I knew you couldn't possibly have come-to already, it was only one day. I caught foresight with you. Voldemort had been manipulating you with his own foresight as he had been all along. From the very first nightmare you had since the start of summer vacation up until the last vision you had where I transformed into Voldemort, all that other stuff, and then you found me passed out. There were only three true parts of that last one. One of them was you getting knocked back and forth between two walls. We thought that would kill you, but the Mark prevented it.  
  
"You probably also want to know what Voldemort tried to do to you that day in the forest when you went back for Ron's parents. He attempted an ancient ritual to get the Mark from your blood into his. It succeeded. The other true part of the last dream was the spell you casted to remove the Mark from Voldemort. Your own blood poured out right on top of you, glittering as your skin does." He let out a cautious laugh. "We thought Voldemort had done something to you. Fortunately, Hermione realized what it was. An amazing thing, that girl.  
  
"The last true part is that you did send him somewhere and we don't know where that is. That's probably good because chances are he doesn't either. And lastly, Ron's parents and your aunt and uncle are all perfectly fine. They Apparated directly in here as soon as your blood stopped pouring... whatever magic Voldemort had been using, he lost control of it." He walked back to the door. "The Sorting ceremony is to start soon, come!"  
  
Harry beamed with a smile almost too big for his face. Forgetting he was sore and hurt all over, he jumped out of bed and changed his clothes with a snap of his fingers. Dumbledore walked out and Harry chased after him. Finally, he thought to himself, it's over, and only the good is left. He left his skin glowing white just to show off for all the eyes to gaze at.  
  
Harry opened the doors with a wave of his hands. As he expected, every single person, including Malfoy, stood up and looked at him. The gazes were as if they never saw something so awe-inspiring. Harry kept a giggle under his breath. He knew he was showing off, but he didn't care. The eyes felt like eagles. There were whispers among all the murmuring.  
  
"Look at him. He's... glowing?"  
  
"Is that Harry Potter?"  
  
"It's Potter!"  
  
Dumbledore smiled at Harry as he walked in. He spotted Ron and Hermione and took a seat across from them. Professor McGonagall began to speak.  
  
"When I call your name... you will come forth... I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head and you will be sorted into your houses."  
  
She called name after name but Harry was too busy conjuring small fireballs to float up at the ceiling. At long last, he caught glance of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. They glanced back at him, half-smiling. If Dumbledore forced them to come, or they came on their own free will was anyone's guess. As Professor McGonagall finished calling names, the fireballs moved themselves into a word. It spelled "Welcome."  
  
This was going to be a good year. Harry Potter was no longer a famous name, he was a famous wizard. 


End file.
